


How I Pictured It

by carissima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Football Player Liam, Jock Liam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry falls in love twice a week. But when he falls for Liam, there's something about him that has Harry completely smitten. Side Zayn/Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How I Pictured It

The first time Harry sees Liam Payne, football star and king of the campus (Louis' words, not Harry's), he's half-asleep at the on-campus coffee shop, his heavy head on Louis' sharp, angular shoulder and his arms wrapped around Louis in the hopes of finding comfort and warmth. Louis is mostly ignoring him and talking loudly, but Harry lives in hope. He'd been up late at a party, he forgets who was hosting, and he'd crawled into bed at 4am, drunk and happy. He was less happy when Louis woke him up at 8am to go to a lecture that Harry was pretty sure wasn't compulsory and he wasn't even sure he was taking that particular course.

"Who's'at?" Harry mumbles as his eyes watch the tall, broad-shouldered boy stroll up to the counter and place his order. He's very pretty, although not Harry's usual type - he's more of a tortured artist or creative genius type of guy, and this guy doesn't look like either of those. In fact, Harry thinks as his eyes wander across Liam's hoodie with 'PAYNO' written across his shoulders and down to his jogging bottoms and trainers, 'Payno' couldn't be more different from his last boyfriend.

"Who?" Louis asks, his head turning towards Harry as he breaks off from his conversation with Zayn, who starts doodling on his napkin.

Harry nods towards the counter. Louis follows his gaze and frowns for a second before his face lights up. "Don't tell me you haven't met Liam yet, Harry. I thought you knew everyone on campus."

Harry just shrugs as he watches Liam flirt with the waitress. She flushes and fumbles the cup she's holding and Liam reaches out to steady her and the cup. Harry thinks Liam might be grinning but he can't see his face from where they're sat by the window in the comfortable seats that Louis had bagged earlier, refusing to sit anywhere else. "There's a lot of people on campus, Lou. No one can know everyone."

"I bet Niall does," Zayn says lazily and lifts his gaze to meet Harry's amused eyes.

"Yeah, probably," Harry says easily. Niall's probably the most popular kid on campus, and not just because of his blonde hair and blue eyes and sunny smile that seems to melt even the iciest exterior. Harry met him on their first day and Louis had declared them to be kindred spirits. Now in their second year, Louis as it turns out had been pretty spot on.

"So not only do you not know everyone on campus," Louis says slowly, "which to be fair, is shocking enough in itself, but you don't know one of the most popular kids in our year?"

Harry refrains from rolling his eyes, but it's quite a battle. He picks up his coffee and takes a sip instead, his gaze drifting back to Liam who is now flirting with the other barista who's making his coffee. He still can't see Liam but the girl has stars in her eyes and Harry would put good money on her number ending up scrawled across Liam's coffee cup.

"I'm not really into sports," Harry mumbles as he sits up and yawns widely, stretching his arms up wide. "Niall's the only jock I know."

He folds back down and settles back against the sofa, picking up his notes and giving them a mental thumbs down as he tries to read his own writing and realises that he was too tired to write anything legibly. He screws the paper up and attempts to throw it into the trash, but he misses by a mile.

"And that's why I don't know any jocks," Harry jokes feebly. Louis gives him an unimpressed look that Harry thinks he probably deserves before he turns back to Zayn and Harry's eyes move back to Liam. He's stirring his drink - a latte, Harry reckons - and saying goodbye to a disappointed looking barista.

When he turns around, Harry's eyes light up as he takes in Liam's face, what he can see of it anyway under his snapback. It's hard and angular, a smattering of stubble across his jawline that's very appealing, Harry thinks. His lips are plump and pink and Harry's licking his own lips as he stares a second too long at Liam's mouth. He's not close enough to tell what colour Liam's eyes are, but they're framed in crinkled eyes that look nice enough from this distance, and Harry feels himself developing a little crush in the time it takes Liam to saunter from the counter to the door.

It's his eighth crush this week and he's lost count of how many he's had since the start of term and it's only October. Louis likes to tease him about his crushes, but he just likes people, is all. He sees a pretty face and falls half in love. He has a great conversation with someone and he's picturing how smart their children would be in some vague distant future. He sees pretty, pink lips and he wants to kiss them, to taste them and see if they're as good as they look.

He watches Liam disappear around the corner and he falls back against Louis' shoulder, murmuring his approval as Louis' hand reaches up to stroke his head idly. Harry listens to Zayn and Louis talking quietly, although he's too tired to hear what they're saying. He tucks his legs up underneath him and closes his eyes. He's asleep in seconds.

*

When Harry's feeling almost human again after his nap in the coffee shop and he manages to get through the rest of his lectures, he bounds into his dorm room and flops down on Louis' bed, reaching around Louis' sleeping body to snuggle up close.

Louis grunts and shifts a little, which Harry takes advantage of to steal more room.

"Gerroff you big lump, go sleep in your own bed," Louis mutters into his pillow, his voice thick with sleep. But he doesn't move and he doesn't shove Harry away.

"Shush, you love snuggling," Harry mumbles into his neck before he flicks his tongue out and licks just behind his ear, where he knows Louis is sensitive.

"Wanker," Louis says fondly. "Feeling better?"

Harry just grunts and closes his eyes. "Ran into Niall at the library earlier."

"Niall was at the library?" Louis sounds a little more awake and his voice is definitely raised in surprise. Niall's not exactly the studious type, although he passes his classes easily enough. It's a mystery, really, how Niall manages to be everyone' s friend and the second best player on the football team (according to Zayn) and a pretty good student. Harry's half-convinced he's magical. Like a wizard, or something. Louis just tells him to stop watching so much Harry Potter, but Harry still has his suspicions.

"I think he was trying to pick up that girl with the blonde hair and long legs," Harry says with a sigh. He knows he could easily fall in love with Niall if Niall had shown any interest in Harry. Niall was his second ever crush at university, but he's mostly over it, just like Zayn was his fifth crush and he still daydreams every now and again about how beautiful their children would be with Zayn's dreamy hazel eyes and Harry's curls. It's a shame, really.

"Oh yeah, that makes more sense," Louis grins into his pillow. "Did he invite you to a party?"

"Yeah, there's one at Ben's tonight," Harry says idly, still dreaming about his and Zayn's beautiful little girl and how Harry would dress her in cute yellow sundresses. "You wanna go?"

"Maybe," Louis says noncommittally. Harry's not that concerned though, Louis never shows interest until Harry's almost out the door and he appears, hair gelled back and his best jeans on, the ones that cling to his arse and stop just at his ankles.

"I'll text Zayn," Harry says, turning over and groaning at the effort he's making for his mates. He shoots off a quick text and rolls back over, his arm flung around Louis as he closes his eyes.

"Can't fall asleep," Louis mutters. "Got homework."

"Yeah," Harry agrees, he's got the same coursework to do as well.

They both fall fast asleep, curled tightly around each other like usual.

*

Harry has to drag Louis out of bed, ignoring his protests and arguing that they can't spend their entire uni careers asleep. By the time Zayn's knocking at their door and Harry lets him in, he's close to just leaving Louis behind.

"Come _on_ Lou!" Harry yells even though Louis is less than five yards away. He turns to Zayn with a sheepish smile, smoothing his hand through his hair. Zayn's got his skinny dark jeans on and one of his comic-book t-shirts that Harry wonders if Zayn sleeps in, he's so attached to them. "Very handsome, Malik. If you change your mind about hooking up ..."

Zayn just laughs and shoves Harry gently away as he makes kissy faces at him. "In your dreams, Styles."

"Every night," Harry says deadpan, before he giggles at the wary face Zayn pulls. "Reel it in, Zayn. Louis would never forgive me if I didn't have a few pornographic dreams about him every month. And Niall's cute, you know."

"Gotta make room for Liam now too," Louis says as he appears, his hair carefully styled into a wavy quiff as he pulls his black jacket straight and ruffles Harry's hair. "Just keep the sex dream noises to a minimum, yeah?"

Harry just laughs and Zayn rolls his eyes, well used to their weirdly intimate relationship by now.

"Let's go," Zayn says, opening the door behind him and stepping out into the hallway. Harry steps out after him and hooks his arm into Zayn's, pulling him down the stairs and into the cool night as Louis catches up and takes Zayn's other arm.

"Escort us to the party, dapper gentleman!" Louis commands royally, which Harry finds hysterically funny. He doesn't stop laughing until they reach Ben's house off campus and Zayn elbows him, threatening to shave his curls off if he doesn't shut up. Unconcerned, Harry just smacks a loud kiss against his stubble-strewn kiss and disappears into the crowd.

The music is loud and thumping as Harry slowly makes his way through the house. It takes him almost an hour to get to the kitchen where the drinks are, because he keeps getting stopped. First by James from his Monday morning lecture, then Rosie from his seminars and Natalie who he knows through Zayn. Then it's the two Johns from BandSoc and Luke from the halls below them.

Louis always complains that Harry has too many friends, but he just _likes_ people. He likes all kinds of people. He likes talking to all of them and really, he's in no rush to hit the kitchen. He's been passed several drinks along the way so he's nicely buzzed by the time he gets there and sees Louis waving a drink around as he talks to Zayn. Most of the alcohol is spilling out with each wave of his arm but Louis doesn't seem to care, so Harry figures he's probably pretty drunk already.

The music sucks; it's some kind of house music that just sounds like noise to Harry, just hard beats that blast out of the sound system but don't _mean_ anything. But he's learned not to talk about it, because he just gets an eye roll from Louis, ignored by Zayn and Niall just laughs. Harry's learned not to talk about a lot of things around his mates.

"Hey babe," Harry greets Louis as he slips a careful hand around Louis' waist, leaning back to avoid Louis' weaving hand. "Careful with that drink."

"S'fine," Louis slurs a little, leaning into Harry and grinning up at him. "Did you make more friends?"

"One or two," Harry says lightly with a shrug. He catches Zayn's sympathetic gaze and he crosses his eyes, waits for Zayn to smile because he's just so pretty. "Have you seen Niall?"

"I think I saw a shock of peroxide blonde heading towards the basement," Louis says, straightening a little and peering towards the door, as if he can see through everyone to find Niall. "Grab a drink and lets go find him."

Harry does as he's told, handing another to Zayn but not offering Louis one because he doesn't want Louis throwing up all night when he sleeps less than a foot away.

Zayn takes the lead, Louis bops behind him and Harry follows, pausing to say hi to a handful of people on the way but this time Harry doesn't stop. Keeping an eye on Louis is a more important task and Harry knows he's too easily distracted to stop for more than a second. Before he knows it, he'll be half an hour into a conversation about The 1975 and Louis will be long gone and possibly filling up on more unnecessary alcohol.

So Harry traipses behind, sending apologetic glances to everyone they pass as Louis elbows past them until they're heading downstairs to where the music shifts to a more mellow, guitar-led beat that Harry finds much more pleasing to his ears. Niall's sprawled out across the floor, guitar in hand and strumming along to the music, and Harry sees the exact moment he spots them by the way his fingers stop on the strings and his eyes light up.

"Lads!" Niall's accent cuts through the music and chatter from the scattered conversations that rumble around them. There are about twenty people down here, Harry estimates as he glances around and smiles at a few faces that he recognises before he reaches Niall, leaning down to pull him up and into a bear hug.

"You give the best hugs," Harry mutters into Niall's neck, taking in the scent of clean shower gel and some musky scent that Niall douses himself in for parties. It's different to the vaguely boy-smell Niall omits the rest of the time, especially if he's been on the pitch.

Niall laughs as he smacks a wet kiss on Harry's cheek and ruffles his hair, his laugh getting louder as Harry shakes his head and flips his curls to the side out of habit. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Louis interjects as he appears behind Harry and rests his arms across Harry's shoulders, forcing him to hunch over a little with Louis' weight. "Harry had a sex dream about you earlier."

Niall just laughs again. "Can't blame ya," he leans in to whisper, winking at Harry.

"He's lying," Harry says easily. "It was last week. You were like, frolicking in a field naked and I couldn't resist."

"Naturally," Niall says with a nod, like Harry's discussing the weather. And this is why Harry loves Niall.

"Ugh, you two should just make out or something," Louis complains loudly as he straightens up and moves away towards where Zayn's taken a seat, falling half into his lap and obnoxiously interrupting Zayn's conversation with the dark-haired girl next to him. Zayn just ignores him but threads his long fingers through Louis' hair, which seems to calm him down enough to rest his head on Zayn's shoulder.

"Come sit," Niall says, pulling Harry's attention away from his friends as he tries to sink gracefully to the floor. He half-falls and ends up with his left leg trapped underneath him while he throws out his hands to steady himself and ends up knocking over Niall's drink.

"Shit! Sorry!" Harry's still trying to untangle himself as Niall just gives him a gentle shove and rescues his drink.

"You're such a Bambi," Niall tells him as he picks up his guitar and starts strumming again. "It works for you though."

And well, Harry knows it does. But sometimes he wishes he had just a little more control over his body.

He lays back against the wall as he closes his eyes and listens to the music. With the alcohol and the music and how warm it is in the basement, Harry feels himself drifting slowly as the room swarms around him. He can feel Niall nudging him now and again and he always opens one eye to see Niall grinning at him or pointing someone or something out, but all in all it's a relaxing way to spend a Thursday evening. Better than coursework, anyway.

He's just the right side of mellow when he feels someone drop down next to him.

"Hey Lou," he murmurs sleepily without opening his eyes, just shifting his body so he's leaning into Louis' warmth, his arm wrapping around Louis for balance and his head dropping onto Louis' small shoulder.

"How do you do that?" Louis asks as he pokes Harry's side, amused when Harry opens his eyes and glares at him. "Guess who's just walked in."

"David Beckham," Harry says dryly, but he's looking towards the stairs and then around the room, trying to figure out who Louis' talking about. When his gaze falls on Liam, his lips curve up into a smile and he bites his bottom lip.

The thing is, Liam looks really good. Really good. He can see his hair now, styled up in a gentle quiff. He's wearing a white shirt and jeans with boots and Harry's eyes trail down his body slowly, taking note of how the shirt pulls around his shoulders and his upper arms, like it's a little tight. Harry wonders just how muscular Liam is under those clothes. He also wonders how long those arms could hold a boy up, if that boy wrapped his arms and legs around Liam for leverage.

"He's hot," Louis whispers, as if Liam's got supersonic hearing from across the room. His hand drifts into Harry's hair as they both watch Liam, Louis with wide, open interest and Harry through heavy, lidded eyes. He moves a bit closer to Louis when he scratches his scalp and Harry practically purrs in delight.

"S'nice," Harry murmurs as he thinks about closing his eyes and just going to sleep. But then again, Liam's in the room and Liam's lovely to look at. So Harry hovers somewhere in between, and somehow finds himself moving from a half-hearted crush to full infatuation as he watches Liam smile at everyone he talks to and nods seriously like he's paying complete attention to them.

"Hey! Liam!"

Harry's almost jolted awake as Niall shouts across the room, waving his arms furiously. Liam looks up mid-conversation, his hand resting on his friend's arm as he looks up. His face lights up as he sees Niall and he waves back, saying something to his friend before he starts towards them. Harry can feel his heart start to race as Liam nears them and he's excited to find out what having Liam's full attention is like. He imagines it's like Christmas morning.

"Hey mate," Liam says as he reaches down to grasp Niall's hand in what Harry can only assume is some weird jock-greeting-ritual that he can't follow but it involves fist bumps and waggling fingers.

Harry takes note that Liam has nice, long fingers.

"Great party, huh Liam?" Niall says as Liam crouches down so that he can talk to Niall.

"Only just arrived, mate," Liam answers with a smile as he puts his drink down next to Niall's empty cup and nods at it. Niall grins in answer and takes a swig. "Trust you to be down here with a guitar."

"You party your way and I'll party my way, Payno." Niall's tone is light and teasing and makes Harry wonder just how Liam likes to party. Being a jock, he imagines it involves lots of alcohol, maybe some beer pong or some other lame drinking game that Harry's probably crap at because he's crap at all games that involve any type of coordination, and probably an audience of some kind. "Hey, you know Harry and Louis?"

Harry lifts his head off Louis' shoulders and looks up at Liam through his eyelashes. Louis snorts when he sees what Harry's doing, it's one of his patented flirting techniques and has a pretty high success rate.

Harry swears he feels his whole body come alive when Liam's gaze swings around to where they are and he smiles as brightly as he can while he's trying to remember how to breathe. He was wrong. Liam's attention isn't like Christmas morning at all. It's like drowning in the sea, being overcome with waves that sap all your strength and leave you a wreck just trying to stay above water.

Harry thinks it's mostly because of Liam's eyes, which are ridiculously beautiful and framed with long, dark eyelashes that Harry's a bit jealous of, if he's being honest.

But something's not right because Liam's expression turns into a frown as he looks at Harry and then Louis, before he's back to Harry again.

"Hi," Harry finally says when seconds have ticked by and Liam's still just half-frowning at him. Harry reaches out a hand, mostly because he just wants to touch Liam and see if he's as warm and hard as he looks, but also because he's painfully polite, as Louis reminds him daily. "I'm Harry. Don't think we've met before."

Liam's gaze travels down to stare at Harry's outstretched hand. Harry doesn't move and refuses to take his hand back. Eventually, Liam closes his hand around Harry's and they shake.

Liam's grip is firm and warm and hard and Harry's having a hard time trying not to let his mind wander to where he'd like Liam's hand to be and what it would feel like to have Liam's hand on his dick because Liam's still frowning a little at him and now Harry's curious because usually he's really good at first impressions. He lets his thumb curl into Liam's palm and stroke back and forth.

"Uh, Liam," he says finally, blinking quickly like Harry's touch has just woke him up. "Nice to meet you."

"And I'm Louis." Louis shoves Harry aside, which has the terrible effect of Liam's hand slipping out of Harry's grasp and he shoots Louis an exasperated look. It's completely wasted though because Louis is grinning up at Liam, all teeth and sharp blue eyes and looking gorgeous. Harry kind of wants to hate him right now.

God, what if Liam likes blue-eyed, petite lads with a sharp wit and heart of gold? What he likes them more than he likes lanky, uncoordinated, dorky idiots with curly hair and dimples?

His hand shoots out before he can stop himself, resting on Liam's forearm possessively. He feels Liam freeze but Harry just smiles lazily as if his mind isn't racing through possible ways to make Liam like _him_ better than Louis because although Louis is awesome, Harry's half in love with Liam and he hates sharing. Or losing.

Harry can't actually think of anything to say. He can't think of a reason why his hand is clutching Liam's arm like a lifeline and for once in his life, his mind has gone completely blank.

And Liam's just staring at him, his brow lowering in confusion as his gaze drops to Harry's hand.

"Alright Harry?" Louis asks, his voice dancing with amusement as he finally breaks the silence. Harry wants to disappear but he also wants to throw himself at Liam and just let the chips fall where they may. Louis turns to Liam and pulls a face. "Excuse him. He's a bit weird, you know? Very touchy feely."

"Nothing wrong with that," Niall says cheerfully and Harry kind of wants to throw his arms around Niall and kiss him. But that would mean moving his hand away from Liam and well, Liam hasn't shrugged him off yet so he figures he'll just leave his hand right there, wrapped around Liam's arm, until he moves away.

"Liam has nice arms," Harry says slowly, his eyes on Liam, smiling brightly. Liam doesn't look at him, just continues to frown down at his arm. Harry finds it weirdly endearing, if perhaps a little disappointing. "Strong."

"Yes, they're very nice, Harry," Louis says as if Harry's a small child learning a big word. "Perhaps you should let Liam have his arm back though."

Unable to resist, Harry gives Liam's arm a squeeze, smiling up at him when his eyes dart up to Harry's, before Harry leans back and rests his head back on Louis' shoulder. Louis gives his thigh a squeeze in return.

"I've uh, got to go," Liam says and Harry wonders if he imagines the huskier tones or whether he's just imagining it. "It was nice to meet you both. See you later, Niall."

Niall lifts a hand in salute and Liam stands up, wincing as he straightens his long legs.

Harry sees Liam glance at him once more before turns and walks away. Harry thinks it's a nice view.

And when Liam turns once more just before he disappears up the stairs and Harry catches his eye and winks because he can't help himself, he thinks Liam's face, blushing and confused, is an even nicer view.

* 

He tries not to talk about Liam. He tries really hard. Except he can't exactly help it when Louis mentions the hot guy he ran into who apparently has the body of a god because it's only natural for Harry to bring up Liam's amazing physique. And when he runs into Niall, who's excited for their next football game, it's completely reasonable for Harry to talk about Liam and ask whether he's excited (he is) and nervous (completely) and how good his legs look in shorts (Niall won't comment, which Harry thinks is both unfair and mean). Fine, it might be a bit more tenuous when he brings up Liam in a conversation about socks, but whatever.

"So on a level of 1 to 10, your Liam crush is a 10, yeah?" Louis asks as he flops down next to Harry at the coffee shop and closes his eyes wearily. Harry automatically reaches over to knead his shoulder as he frowns.

"Uh, probably, yeah," Harry admits with a wry smile to himself. It's really not his fault. It's definitely Liam's. Harry's helpless to resist those eyes and those arms, in all fairness. "Tough day?"

"Nah, not really," Louis says, grinning as he opens his eyes and laughs at Harry's exasperated expression. "Just wanted a massage."

"You can just ask," Harry says, dropping his hand in principle and picking up his half-empty coffee mug and taking a sip. "And yeah, I know, where's the fun in that. But just ask next time, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Louis says in a tone that suggests he won't. "So when are you going to make your move on the studly footballer?"

Harry bats Louis' hand away from where it's sneaking towards his coffee. "Get your own," he says mildly. "And never. It's destined to be one of those unrequited, loving from afar things."

Harry thinks it's sounds quite romantic, and that appeals to him a little.

Louis scoffs loudly and smacks Harry around the head.

"Ow!" Harry rubs his head as he glares at him.

"Why aren't you going to make a move?" Louis asks, sitting back against the sofa and making himself look comfortable. Harry envies how easily Louis can do that, anywhere and anytime. "It's not like you to hold back or anything."

"Firstly, I don't even know if he likes boys," Harry holds up a finger and starts counting, lifting a finger with each point. "Secondly, he's a jock. Thirdly, he frowned at me a lot that one time we spoke for about two seconds, so I don't think he's a fan or anything. Fourthly, he's gorgeous and popular and probably has a million options for dating."

"I bet he does," Louis says holding up his own finger and counting off Harry's points. "Jocks aren't bad people Harry, that's stereotyping and you should be ashamed of yourself. You're very confusing when people first meet you, so no wonder he frowned a lot. You're gorgeous and popular and have a million options for dating, but you're fixated on football boy."

Harry doesn't really have an answer for him so he gives Louis a small smile and a shrug and hopes that Louis will drop the subject.

He doesn't.

"I don't get it, is all," Louis says when it's clear that Harry isn't going to speak. He reaches out to pull Harry into his arm and leans back, his hand curling around Harry's shoulder when he falls into Louis in his familiar way. "I mean, you've had crushes on hot guys before but this is the first time I've seen you fixated on a specific one. What's so great about Liam?"

Harry feels himself bristle a little at the faintly accusing tone Louis uses, but he just takes a breath and releases it before answering. "I just think he's hot. And he has nice eyes."

"Liam again?" Zayn interrupts as he drops his bag onto a chair and falls into the other, propping his feet up on the table and ignoring Harry's frown at his bad manners. "You're obsessed, mate."

"Heyyy," Harry protests, turning to glare at Louis who just looks amused. "Louis brought him up, not me."

"Yes, on this occasion it was my fault," Louis admits with a long-suffering sigh that Harry dutifully ignores for the sake of their friendship. "I'm trying to find out why Liam has captured Harry's heart when so few have managed."

"It's the biceps, innit?" Zayn says, thickening his accent in that habit he has when he's teasing one of them. "Just be glad Harry's never seen Liam in the gym or on the pitch. You'd have to hold him back. Hell, even I want to jump Liam sometimes when he scores or when he's lifting weights."

"Woah," Louis hand lifts up and he and Harry pull matching stares at Zayn, their jaws dropping slightly and their eyes wide. "When have you been in the gym?"

"I go sometimes," Zayn answers a little defensively, pulling his beanie a little lower and scowling at them when they start laughing. Especially at Louis and especially when he actually slaps his own knee because he's so amused. "I do!"

"Yeah, okay," Louis scoffs, his eyes bright and amused. "So he's really fit then?"

"Definitely," Zayn says, still a bit miffed but willing to let it go as he waves over to the counter and holds up three fingers. He gets an exaggerated eye roll from the girl serving but he knows she'll bring over three coffees. They always manage to get their way here, somehow. "I can see why Harry's smitten."

"I'm not smitten," Harry protests but it's half-hearted at best because he _is_ smitten. And it's not like he even knows why, he's seen Liam a total of two times and they've barely spoken. And if what Zayn says is true, he hasn't even seen the best of Liam yet. Harry manages to not drool at the thought, but it's a lot of effort to keep his mind focused on Zayn and not on Liam stripping off his sweaty shirt when he scores and racing around the pitch, or sweaty, rugged Liam working out at the gym, straining and breathing heavily. Yeah, it's quite an effort.

"He's playing tomorrow," Zayn says slyly. Harry glares at him and folds his arms defensively. Zayn is evil. Zayn spends too much time with Louis. "We could go watch."

"Yes! We should totally do that!" Louis bounces up and down in his seat, smiling a little manically at the barista who brings over their coffee and narrowly avoiding knocking into her and sending all their coffees flying. "Cheers, love."

"Thanks," Harry murmurs as he takes his, flashing her a distracted smile that makes her flush a little. Not that Harry notices.

"Here you go," Zayn hands her the cash with a grateful smile that has her flush deepening before she scurries back over to the counter and hides.

"Flirt," Louis mutters before he lifts his cup to his lips and takes a sip, scowling at it when he burns his tongue.

"Anyway, back to the football match," Zayn says, ignoring Louis. "Starts at 6pm. We should get there by half five to make sure we get good seats."

Harry doesn't even attempt to stop their plans, partly because he _wants_ to go see Liam play, wants to see him in his little shorts and find out what his legs look like because Niall won't share and see him all happy and giddy when he scores or when they wind. And partly because he knows better than to try and stop Louis when he gets an idea into his head.

He just sits back and sips his coffee, slipping into a daydream involving a shirtless, sweaty Liam that's very satisfying all round.

*

Harry knows he's dragging his feet. Literally. Louis is actually pulling him across the road towards the football pitch where Liam's team is playing a local university team and Zayn's behind them, texting but keeping an eye on Harry too as if he expects him to bolt.

Harry would honestly be happy enough to love Liam from afar, to worship his body in an abstract, dreamy way that involves no actual awkward conversation or any effort at all, really. The thing is, Harry has spent a good week or so just falling in love with the _idea_ of Liam, and really who can live up to that sort of expectation? To Harry, Liam is practically perfect in every way, and he knows that's not realistic, which is why he doesn't want to go to this game and he doesn't want to know anything else about Liam except what he already knows (cute, hot, sexy, nice arms, sporty) because it can only go downhill. And Harry's more than happy to continue with his too-frequent fantasies about Liam and how he's great at sucking dick and he's lovely to parents (his mum is really particular about young lads and manners) and he's sweet and yet capable of reducing Harry to a babbling mess in bed. It's just not realistic.

Part of him really dislikes Louis for forcing him to come and the inevitable loss of his Liam fantasies, because he's pretty sure he won't be able to fantasise about Liam, despite how gorgeous he is, if he finds out that he's a bully on the pitch or he makes derogatory comments or he's just obnoxious in general.

And that's why he's dragging his heels.

"I really should be in the library," Harry protests loudly as Louis yanks on his arm and he feels Zayn's hand on his back. "I've got that coursework due in on Monday."

"And today's Friday," Louis points out fairly. "You've got all Sunday to write that essay. Friday is for drinking and dancing and watching fit boys run around a pitch looking all sweaty and athletic and sexy."

Well, not even Harry can disagree with that, so he shuts up and lets Louis drag him to some seats with a great view and promptly starts extracting food from his satchel.

Harry gives him a look when he's handed a packet of crisps, two sausage rolls and a flash of coffee. He's pretty sure the coffee is laced with whiskey.

"This isn't my first footy match mate," Louis says simply as he hands food to Zayn as well, who looks grateful. "You'll appreciate it around half-time when they're offering you burgers and nachos and charging an extortionate rate for a soggy bit of chips."

Harry just takes his word for it and settles back against the cold seat, wrapping his scarf more tightly around his neck and shoving his cold hands into his usually warm-enough jacket. The coffee warms him a little but by the time the team makes it onto the pitch, Harry's frozen and he can't feel his fingers and maybe he's starting to reconsider his whole crush on Liam. He's on his feet and jumping around, rubbing his arms as he glares at the pitch.

Seeing Liam's legs in those shorts is pretty good compensation though.

"Stop staring." Louis elbows him a little harder than Harry thinks is entirely necessary but he did bring the coffee so he gets a free pass this time.

"He's got nice legs," is all Harry says, his eyes fixated on Liam and how happy he looks. His smile is wider than Harry's seen before and he's bouncing around like an excitable puppy. Harry can't help but laugh when Liam launches himself at Niall, who just curls up into himself like he's often been the victim of a Liam attack and tries to protect himself while Liam tickles him into running away. It takes Harry a few minutes to realise this is Liam's way of warming Niall and himself up for the game. It's pretty damn adorable.

Harry wraps his arm around Louis in an attempt to share body heat. Louis' hand wraps around his waist just as he yells out Niall's name. Harry and Louis both shamelessly wave and yell Niall's name, trying to out-shriek each other until Zayn hits them both around the head and orders them to shut up.

They do, but only because Niall's seen them and is laughing at them, pointing them out to Liam who's got that bloody frown on his face again. Harry really hates that frown.

He smiles wide and waves, looking straight at Liam. He gets a little half-wave in return but no smile, just a confused-looking Liam turning away. As he jogs with Niall to join the rest of the team, Harry keeps watching him but this time he doesn't look back. Harry's shoulders slump a little and he rests his head on Louis' shoulder.

"Think he's just shy," Louis mumbles and Harry tightens his arm around him just a little because sometimes Louis is the best. When he's not being the absolute worst, that is.

The game is close, with neither team scoring by half time. The boys cheer loudly every time Niall gets the ball and Zayn and Louis have taken to screaming out Liam's name in the most high-pitched screams they can reach (Zayn can go higher but Louis' louder).

"Great game!" Louis says happily as he wraps an arm each around Zayn and Harry. "Niall's playing really well."

Zayn just nods in easy agreement because he's not here so much for the football as he is for Niall and maybe Louis and Harry.

Harry just bites his lip because Liam had been tackled pretty viciously in the closing seconds of the first half and had hobbled off with Niall's help, smiling bravely and lifting his hand to the crowd who had booed the opposing player as he walked off the pitch. But Harry's not convinced and he bites his nails as he waits for the fifteen minute half-time talk to be over.

Louis' right though, it has been an exciting game. Harry loves football and always wishes he'd been better at it, but he honestly can't coordinate his body well enough to be any good. He'd given up when he was eleven and nearly broke his own leg falling over the ball. His mum had crouched down and told him very seriously that perhaps football wasn't for him and Harry had reluctantly agreed. He hadn't cried though, not until he got home and could hide under his duvet. Gemma had come in and cuddled him, not saying anything, and he maybe loved his sister more than anything in that moment. Until she'd suggested he take up ballet at which point he'd shoved her off the bed and she'd left his room laughing about Harry in tights because she's amazing but also a bit evil.

But Liam's actually a really good player, one of the best on the pitch and Harry would happily admit that he's spent 96% of the game staring at Liam. He's not that broad compared to some of the players, but he looks strong and he's not afraid to go in for a challenge, although Harry's winced at a few tackles and wondered how Liam doesn't injury himself more. He looks especially spectacular when he's running flat out and when he's panting to catch his breath, Harry can't help but daydream a little about how he could make Liam pant just as hard without the team sports. It really doesn't help when Harry started counting how often Liam patted his team mates on the arse - it's up to twelve already and there's still half a match to play.

Harry only stops biting his nails when Liam's back on the pitch, running around like nothing happened. Niall waves at them again and they all wave back, Louis hollering loudly and making Niall laugh before he jogs back to the team. This time when Harry catches Liam looking over, he keeps his face neutral and just gives him a thumbs up. He sees Liam's reluctant smile and Harry counts it as a victory, burying his head into Louis' shoulder as soon as Liam turns away.

"Slow and steady," Louis murmurs and Harry reaches up to smack a loud kiss on his cheek. He doesn't want to think too hard about why he's happier right now, right in this second than he's been in forever, because it was just a smile and it wasn't even a full on, Liam crinkly-eyed smile directed at Harry. But that just gives him something to work towards, he thinks as he yells out a cheer when Liam gets control of the ball and dribbles down the pitch.

In the closing minutes, Harry's almost yelled himself hoarse. The score is tied at 1-1 and Niall has the ball. He passes it to Liam who passes it back when Niall makes a run for goal. Harry grips Louis' hand so tightly that he lets out a loud yelp but Louis' squeezing his hand just as tightly so he doesn't let go. When Niall's shot hits the back of the net, Louis, Zayn and Harry scream in unison, hugging each other and yelling Niall's name along with the rest of the crowd. Harry doesn't stop dancing on the spot as the final few seconds countdown and when the final whistle blows, Liam's jumped on Niall and dragged him to the ground, with the rest of the team following suit. Everyone's laughing and laughing at each other, Harry even hugs the guy next to him and no one finds it weird because football is ace and everyone loves each other when they win.

They wait for the crowd to disperse, with even Zayn joining in on how good the game was and how amazing Niall's goal was and how great the whole team was ("Yes, Harry, especially Liam") before they head out.

They reach the after party being held in one of the houses off campus again before the team and Louis drags Harry into the kitchen before he can get waylaid and shoves a drink into his hand.

"To Niall and Liam and fit lads in football kits getting all sexy and sweaty!" Louis cheers, holding his drink up high.

Zayn rolls his eyes but mutters "To football," reluctantly. Harry slings his arm around Zayn's shoulders and presses a sloppy kiss against his stubble-strewn cheek, laughing when Zayn mock frowns at him. "To Liam being totally fit!"

They drink and shove each other for a while before Louis pours them another and leads them to the basement. It's always the basement, Harry figures, where they find their quiet spot at parties. They've never been a trio for dancing (they can't) or playing drinking games (Harry's bad at them, Louis is too good at them and Zayn hates them) so they always gravitate to the quieter rooms. Louis insists its where the cool kids hang out.

Harry's on his fourth beer, half-lying on Zayn who also has Louis on his other side, monopolising the conversation when Niall appears in front of them, his chest puffed out and a wickedly dangerous grin lighting up his adorable face.

Harry sits up and reaches for him, pulling him neatly onto his lap and burying his face into Niall's shoulder. "Alright, man of the match?"

Niall laughs and wraps an arm around Harry, another reaching across to Louis and they're somehow in a big group hug with Niall lapping up the adoration and compliments.

"I reckon it was your cheering squad that helped," Louis offers when they finally pull back, all flushed faces and teasing smiles.

"Zayn in particular was a massive cheerleader," Harry supplies, elbowing Zayn gently and getting a slap to the back of the head in reply.

"Nah, reckon you might have helped actually," Niall says seriously. And this is why Harry adores him, because there's no mystery with Niall. He says whatever he thinks and he's so open and honest and adorable that it never occurs to anyone to mock him for it. "You're coming to the next one, yeah? Away at Reading next Saturday?"

"Uh, not sure I'm that committed, mate," Zayn says with an apologetic shrug.

Louis glares at him before turning back to Niall with a hand on his arm. "Course we are, mate. Even Zayn. We'll find him some school spirit by then."

"Good luck with that," Niall teases even as he ducks across to plaster a big smacking kiss on Zayn's head. When he gets swatted away with a grumble about messing up his hair, Niall just laughs and crawls off of Harry's lap, patting his head idly. Harry quite likes his hair being played with so he just beams up at Niall happily.

"Where're your teammates?" Harry asks innocently but he gathers from the look Niall shoots him that his attempt to be offhand has fallen flat.

"He means Liam," Louis supplies helpfully.

When Harry turns to frown at him, the sight of Louis' hand in Zayn's hair and Zayn not saying a word has him shutting his mouth abruptly, the denial dying on his lips.

And well, that's interesting.

"Yeah thanks Lou," Niall drawls. "Didn't quite catch that. He's here, somewhere upstairs I think. He'll come down eventually."

Harry sips his drink as Niall takes a seat at his feet, resting back against Harry's legs and they chat about everything and nothing. Louis hand stays in Zayn's hair and Zayn doesn't mention it. Harry talks about Liam a lot and Niall indulges him until he enforces a ban and Harry retreats into a sulk.

He finally relents when Zayn nuzzles into his cheek, making him laugh before he declares his need for the bathroom. Harry finds it easily enough, only getting stopped twice which he thinks is a good run. As he leaves, he takes a quick look around the main room and spots Liam easily enough. Harry wants to weep a little at how good Liam looks, with his swept to the side hair and his skinny jeans, and how they emphasise how long his legs are and just remind Harry of how good they look in shorts, and his t-shirt and plaid shirt combo which stretch slightly at the shoulders.

He allows himself one whole minute to stare at Liam unashamedly before he heads back downstairs and settles himself next to Niall on the floor, his back against Zayn's legs as Louis stretches out on the sofa above him.

"You smell nice," Harry murmurs into Niall's neck, giving his skin a little lick because it looks really inviting.

"Get off," Niall laughs as he gives Harry a gentle shove. "Hussy."

"Tease," Harry returns, amused as he tries to link his arm with Niall. "Hey, how come you're not upstairs with the rest of your team?"

Niall shoves Harry again and laughs when Harry sits back against Zayn's legs, pouting and looking upset. "Giving them a head start, aren't I? Hardly fair for them if I walk in. Gotta give them a chance to hook up, yeah?"

"Your ego is incredible," Louis mutters from somewhere above Harry. He reaches up blindly and somehow finds Louis' arm, patting it gently.

"Hey, just calling it like I see it," Niall says cheerfully. He winks at Harry who can't help but laugh at his sheer confidence. "Never short of offers at the end of a game night. Right, Payno?"

Harry's eyes drift up to find Liam laughing at Niall, reaching down to do their jock fist bump thing. The thing is, Harry knows he's staring. But he just can't stop himself.

"Your ego is incredible." Liam shakes his head as if he can't believe his teammate.

"That's what I said!" Louis yells from the sofa, reaching out his hand in a fist bump. Liam hesitates before he holds out his own fist. When Louis switches his hand around at the last minute to poke his finger into Liam's fist, Liam laughs a little.

"Ignore Louis, he's weird," Niall says, ignoring Louis' protests and attempts to hit him. Harry, being in the middle of them, gets slapped quite a bit.

"Did you enjoy the game?" Liam asks politely. Harry glances up but he's not looking at Harry, his gaze is somewhere between Zayn and Louis.

"Yeah, it was amazing," Louis says quickly. "You and Niall were the best by far."

Liam flushes and Harry just wants to melt into a puddle on the floor. "Uh, thanks."

"We're coming to your next game, apparently," Zayn says, and Harry knows he's trying to be polite but he can hear the faint strain of annoyance in Zayn's voice so he reaches down to pinch Zayn's leg. He gets a gentle kick in return.

"Oh, uh, that's nice," Liam says with a smile. It's aimed towards Zayn though and Harry has an irrational urge to smack Zayn in the face. And maybe Louis too. "All of you?"

"Yeah, all of us," Harry says, glancing up to see Liam looking at him. On instinct, Harry clambers to his feet and is a little surprised to see he's a bit taller than Liam. Not by much, but still. For some reason, Liam just seems so much bigger but in reality, he's just a little broader than Harry. Although Harry suspects Liam is all muscle whereas he's lean with just a touch of puppy fat still.

Maybe he'll go for a run in the morning or something.

"Hey Liam, let's go get a drink," Harry says brightly as if they're the best of mates. He's counting on Liam's apparently innate need to be polite and he's not disappointed when Liam turns and heads for the stairs. Harry turns and winks at Louis before he follows, laughing to himself when Louis sends him a double thumbs down.

Harry reaches out his hand to place on Liam's hip as they walk through the party. He feels Liam freeze and falter for a second before he keeps moving. Harry's half-expecting Liam to move his hand but he doesn't. And when someone drunkenly stumbles into them, Harry's shoved into the back of Liam and his other hand wraps around Liam's arm to steady himself. His body is pressed up close against Liam's and he can feel exactly how firm and muscular Liam is. The urge to wrap his arms around Liam and press closer is so strong that Harry has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"Okay?" he hears Liam say in a low rumble and Harry has to drop his hand to pinch his own thigh to remind himself that they're in the middle of a party and he's plastered himself against Liam, who he barely knows and has shown no interest whatsoever in even being friends with Harry and he's been lost for a good minute in a daydream about Liam picking him up and shoving him against a wall and getting that mouth of his on Harry's.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry answers, his voice deeper than usual as he tries to step back to get some space between them. Liam's hand pats Harry's where it still rests on his hip and then he's moving forward, Harry trying to keep up as he resists the urge to dig his fingers into Liam's soft skin.

When Liam comes to a stop in the kitchen, Harry keeps his hand on Liam because he's a masochist and Liam hasn't shoved him away yet.

"Beer?" Liam asks over his shoulder, his face half turning but his eyes on the beer he's currently pouring.

Harry murmurs a yes please as he shuffles a bit closer as someone squeezes past them. "Pretty crowded party."

"Always is after game night," Liam says as he turns to hand Harry his drink. Harry reluctantly lets go of Liam and flexes his fingers a little before he takes the offered plastic cup and lifts it to toast Liam's.

It's hot and crowded in the kitchen so when Harry nods to the doors leading outside with a raised eyebrow, Liam nods and leads the way again. This time, Harry keeps his hands to himself. They skirt around a couple making out and Liam lifts his hand to acknowledge a group of guys but he doesn't make a move towards them and heads for a quiet space by the wall, leaning against it and staring up at the sky. Harry looks up and smiles, impressed by how clear the night sky is.

"Zayn didn't seem that enthusiastic about the football," Liam says finally, his gaze still firmly up at the stars.

Surprised, Harry glances at him and wonders how Liam picked up on that.

"He looked bored during the match," Liam adds when Harry says nothing.

Harry leans back against the wall, his shoulder brushing against Liam's and he watches as the couple that had been making out earlier are now simply wrapped up around each other, staring into each other's eyes and completely oblivious to where they are. Harry envies them as he lets his fingers graze Liam's for a second before he shoves them into his jacket against the cold night air.

"Zayn's more of a quiet cheerleader," Harry explains eventually. "He was cheering on the inside. And he moans about travelling for games but he'll be there, with his invisible cheerleader outfit on, masked by his leather jacket and tight jeans."

Liam lets out a breath that Harry thinks almost sounds like a laugh.

"So you saw us then? In the crowd?" Harry pushes gently.

"You were loud enough," Liam answers dryly, which forces a laugh out of Harry. Liam glances up and there's a smile playing on his lips. "You must be really good mates with Niall."

"Nah, we just love football," Harry replies straight-faced.

Liam's lips twitch all the way into a real smile and Harry feels foolishly happy with himself. He knows he's being a bit ridiculous and maybe his crush is getting a little out of hand, but there's just something about Liam that makes his insides feel all warm and squishy and he likes the feeling too much to walk away from it. "You frown at me a lot, you know."

Liam's smile falls away and he turns to face Harry with that famous frown.

"Like now, for example," Harry says, reaching up slowly, so slowly that Liam could stop him if he wanted to, but he doesn't, until Harry's thumb and index finger are on the corners of his mouth. Harry smiles as he pushes Liam's lips up into a smile until he feels Liam's face relax under his fingers into a real smile.

"Sorry," Liam murmurs, his eyes on Harry's. "I didn't realise."

Harry feels a weight drop down into his stomach. "Well, now you know," he says lightly. "So you can stop doing it. Otherwise I'll think you don't like me."

Liam looks at him steadily, his smile dropping a little but staying mostly in place. "I barely know you, but you seem nice enough. All of you do."

"In that case you should hang out with us more," Harry says. Mostly he wishes Liam would just fall in love with him at first sight, but that's looking more and more unlikely so he figures with enough time, he can charm Liam into loving him. "Zayn and Louis are a bit weird, but you get used to it."

"So are you not weird then?" Liam asks and his immediate flush has Harry wondering if Liam sometimes speaks before he thinks. He's adorable.

"A little," Harry says easily enough. He tucks his arm into Liam's and slides his hand back into his pocket so that they're locked together. "Tell me about you."

Harry learns that Liam's degree is in English Literature, that he struggles and spends a lot of time either in the library or at the coffee shop trying to improve his brain with caffeine. He's got two sisters and he's from Wolverhampton. He's played football ever since he can remember and playing is the best feeling in the world.

Harry in turn shares that he has a sister who's both a delight and a menace, he's from Holmes Chapel and he's the most uncoordinated footballer to ever grace the pitch. Liam outright laughs at that description. Harry fake-frowns at him but when Liam reaches over to return the favour and push his mouth into a smile, Harry helplessly stumbles a little further in love with him and his smile might be just that little bit brighter.

"We should probably head back inside," Harry says eventually, even though he'd happily freeze to death out here if it meant talking to Liam longer. But Liam's face had been slowly getting bluer and bluer and while Harry would be quite happy to die in Liam's strong, lovely arms, he's not overly keen on Liam getting hypothermia before Harry's got the chance to make him fall in love with him.

Liam nods and this time Harry leads the way. He winds around the couple and back inside where he grabs two more drinks, passing one behind him to Liam before carrying on through the main room and towards the basement. Harry flops down onto the sofa next to Louis, who makes a whoop of delight and wraps his arms around Harry, complaining about how cold he is but not letting go. Harry sinks into him and lets himself warm up against Louis' body heat.

"Uh, I'm gonna head back upstairs," Liam says quietly, so quietly that Harry barely hears him. He gets a chorus of bye's and Niall stands up to go with him and then it's just the three of them, with Harry frowning as he watches Liam disappear upstairs, laughing at whatever Niall's tell him.

"You were gone a long time," Louis says with a lewd wink and a poking finger into Harry's ribs for good measure.

"Ow," Harry protests, shuffling away for a whole second before he falls back into Louis. "We were just talking. Learning the basics."

"And it didn't end with your tongue in his mouth?" Louis asks, a little incredulously although Harry's almost certain that he's messing with him. "The charm is failing, Styles. Better learn some new moves."

Harry whines a little before he settles into an exaggerated pout. "I really like him, Lou. Every time I see him or talk to him, I just like him more."

Louis visibly bites back a comment, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip as his eyes run over Harry's face. Eventually he sighs and pulls Harry closer in for a cuddle. "Yeah, I know you do babe."

"I just want him to love me," Harry says grumpily.

"He will," Zayn offers, reaching out to pat Harry's thigh a bit too hard, making his cold leg sting a little. "You're irresistible."

"You had no problems resisting me," Harry points out irritably. Not that it's exactly true. Harry fell in love with Zayn at first sight in the first week of university because Zayn is gorgeous and wonderful, but it was a fleeting love that quickly melted into friendship, as most of Harry's loves do.

"Was tempted though," Zayn says and Harry's eyes widen as he spins round to look at Zayn, Louis' head whipping around just as quickly.

"Wait, are you being serious?" Louis asks, sounding gobsmacked.

"He's cute," is all Zayn says, but there's a wicked smile teasing his lips.

"Zayn Malik, do you like boys?" Harry's a little blown away. In a year and a bit of knowing Zayn, this information is both surprising and perhaps mind-blowing, at least for Louis if Harry's reading him right.

"Sometimes," Zayn admits. He looks a bit embarrassed but that's never stopped Louis before. Just as he opens his mouth, Zayn reaches over and places his hand over it. "Shut up, Lou. You never asked before."

Harry just snickers into his hand as he tries to look at anyone other than Louis or Zayn, but he reaches his hand across Louis' shoulders and places it on Zayn's shoulder. Zayn reaches up to squeeze it gently before they both move away.

"Well, any _other_ secrets that we'd like to share?" Louis asks crossly, folding his arms across his belly as he glares first as Zayn and then at Harry. "Harry, do you have a wife and three kids stashed away somewhere? Zayn, are you a Mensa genius masquerading as an average university student? Are either of you drug kingpins with links to the mafia underworld?"

"Louis, stop being ridiculous." Harry gives in and laughs, reaching over to poke Louis, relishing the moment when Zayn starts tickling him too and Louis turns into a wriggling mess, squealing and shrieking at them to stop until he's out of breath and somehow lying across them, his head in Zayn's lap and his feet in Harry's. Harry wouldn't be at all surprised if Louis managed it on purpose, the sneaky bastard.

"Hey Zaynie," Louis purrs, blinking his long eyelashes up at him. "Look, you've got a cute boy in your lap."

"Nah, just you," Zayn says deadpan, his expression not changing even when Harry lets out a burst of laughter and Louis pouts up at him and reaches up to flick his nipple.

When they finally force themselves up and head home to their dorms, Harry slings his arm around both of them and places a smacking kiss on both their cheeks.

"Just sharing the love, guys," Harry tells them with a grin before he makes a run for it, both of them chasing with laughter ringing in the early morning air.

*

Harry's just about to fall asleep while trying to read the third chapter in his textbook when a movement out of the corner of his eye wakes him up. The coffee shop is mostly empty, as it's half three on a Wednesday which is usually when the entire sports body of the university is off practising and there are so few scheduled classes that most people are either at the library catching up on their work or at the student union, getting drunk before the sports crew hit the bar and it becomes a whole mess of drinking games and showmanship. Harry tends to avoid drinking on Wednesday for just that reason but he also doesn't work well at the library because he needs a small buzz of noise around him. Absolute silence freaks him out a little and he likes to drop in and out of peoples conversations as he studies. He learns a lot about people that way.

The coffee shop is probably his favourite place on campus, apart from his and Louis' room. It's cosy and warm, with cream walls and vintage posters everywhere. It should look haphazard and stupid, but instead it looks quirky and Harry feels at home. He likes sitting facing the picture of the singer with his back to the camera, focusing on the crowd in front best, sitting on the comfortable brown leather sofa that Harry can sink right into and feel at home. The aroma of ground coffee beans is one of Harry's favourite scents in the world, reminds him of being home and working in the bakery where they had a small coffee machine that only Harry seemed to be able to work.

But the movement that jerked him awake is Liam, who's now standing at the counter and placing his order. Harry runs his hand through his hair idly, wondering what state it's in and then not really caring very much. He picks up his beanie from where it lay on the table in front of him and shoves it over his head. He rights the book that's half hanging off his thigh and stands up, grimacing as his legs protest after being locked in the same position for too long. He shakes them a little bit, tugging on his skinny jeans and keeping an eye on Liam, who's still talking to the barista.

He takes his time walking over and rests his hand on Liam's waist as casually as he can manage, smiling innocently at Liam when he glances over.

"Hey man," Harry greets him slowly, his smile growing as Liam's appears. Harry really hopes Liam's eyes really did just brighten but he's so far gone on Liam that it's entirely possible that it's just in Harry's head.

"Hi Harry," Liam says before he glances around the shop. "Uh, want a coffee?"

"Oh, yeah that'd be great," Harry says smoothly, gripping his hands behind his back to stop himself from doing anything embarrassingly like launching himself at Liam or clapping like an excited child. "Just a filter coffee thanks."

The barista nods and takes Liam's change before she moves away to make the drinks.

"On your own today?" Liam asks casually as he pockets the change and they move to the end of the counter to wait for their drinks.

"Louis' napping and Zayn does his art classes on a Wednesday afternoon," Harry explains. "What about you? Aren't you meant to be getting hot and sweaty on a football pitch somewhere?"

"The physio gave me a pass because of the knock I took in the last game," Liam says as he passes Harry's mug across and picks up his own.

"You're gonna keep me company, right?" Harry knows his dimples are flashing as he grins at Liam and this time he definitely doesn't miss the way Liam's gaze flickers down momentarily. "Don't abandon me to my horrible textbook reading."

"Well, I wouldn't want to do that," Liam says teasingly and that's all Harry needs to grab Liam's arm and tug him towards the sofa, not letting go until Harry's flopped down, which leaves Liam no choice but to sit next to him.

"So are you injured then?" Harry asks before he takes a sip and winces because his coffee is way too hot. "You played the rest of the game after you took that knock."

"Oh no, it's just a precaution," Liam assures him as he settles back more comfortably against the sofa.

Harry thinks Liam's smile is still too wary for his liking but at least it's an improvement on the frown. And sometimes he just can't get over those eyes. The way they light up and seemingly change colour when he laughs and the light catches them. Or darken when he gets intensely serious. Or how they seem to stare right through him and reveal his deepest, darkest secrets.

"So you're playing on Friday then?" Harry asks as he refrains from offering Liam a sexy massage to help his healing.

"Oh yeah, wouldn't miss it," Liam says earnestly. "You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Harry echoes, smiling as Liam grins and _that's_ the smile Harry likes. "Or the after party. Seems like that's the only place I get to talk to you."

"We're talking now," Liam points out easily but his smile softens. "What are you studying?"

"Business studies." Harry makes a face while Liam looks amused by him. "I don't want to talk about, I'm scarred for life. Let's talk about more exciting things. Like whether Niall pulled on Friday."

"Not that I know of, pretty sure he struck out twice," Liam says with a frown, confusion clearly clouding his face.

Harry reaches out and pats his arm, letting his hand linger a second longer than necessary, which is a habit he really needs to break with Liam. It's not Liam's fault that he looks adorable. Or maybe it is. Harry's not sure who to blame about this whole crush situation anymore because he's usually made out with his crushes or gotten over them by now so this whole Liam state of affairs is really throwing him. "Niall was bragging that he never went home alone. I just wanted to make sure he did before I tell Louis and we make his life hell for a little while."

"Oh," Liam's face clears up and he's back to being sunshine again. "Yeah, he went home alone. He does most nights, really, although he could easily take more girls back to his dorm if he wanted to."

"Don't tell me that," Harry groans good-naturedly as he picks up his coffee mug and takes a sip, this time the bitter liquid is a more reasonable temperature and Harry savours it as his phone vibrates on the table. He studiously ignores it. "Tell me more about him striking out, yeah?"

"You're a bit of a terror, aren't you?" Liam says as if he's surprised by this fact. Harry sneaks a look at him, but he mostly seems amused by it. "I think it's great. Niall's always teasing me so I'm glad someone does it to him."

"Why don't you?" Harry asks, genuinely curious. He watches as Liam flushes and stares down at his coffee mug where it's resting in his hands on his lap, his fingers tapping an idle beat against the china.

"I'm not very good at the whole banter thing," Liam says finally, lifting his head and looking apologetic. "I don't like to hurt people's feelings and that's what it feels like most of the time, so I just don't."

Harry just stares at him as his heart flips a little. He's pretty sure his jaw has gone slack and his eyes are probably as wide as saucers but every time he thinks he's starting to get a handle on how much he likes Liam, he comes out with another reason for Harry to fall desperately in love with him. Bastard.

"What does Niall tease you about?" Harry asks quietly as he tucks his long legs underneath him and shifts so that he's facing Liam.

"The time I spend in the gym, what I eat, that I don't get laid enough, that I take too long to do my coursework, that my spelling is atrocious ..." Liam trails off with an embarrassed laugh.

Harry blinks slowly. "That's a lot, Liam. And you don't retaliate? At all?"

Liam just shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee.

"Well in that case, we're definitely going to make fun of him on Friday," Harry says firmly. He puts his coffee cup down on the table and offers his hand to Liam, pleased when Liam shakes it firmly. "Deal."

"But only after the game, yeah?" Liam says, backtracking almost immediately to Harry's amusement.

"Of course," Harry says solemnly, holding out his little finger. Liam blinks a few times but he crooks his pinkie around Harry's and they shake, before they both break into laughter.

"Hey lads."

Harry spins around, his smile already welcoming as he reaches out a hand automatically to drag Louis down onto the sofa arm. "You're up!"

"Well, Zayn called me and woke me up," Louis grumbles. He swipes Harry's mug and takes a long sip, wincing when he pulls back. "Ugh, get tea next time you heathen. Hiya Liam."

"Hi Louis," Liam says politely and Harry swings his gaze back to him, his smile bright and easy until he sees Liam gathering his stuff together and finishing his coffee. "Uh, I've got to get going. It was nice bumping into you Harry. I'll see you both at the game?"

"Absolutely," Louis agrees easily as he shoves Harry into the space vacated by Liam and slumps onto the sofa. "Good luck, if we don't see you before."

"Yeah, thanks mate," Liam says with a smile, reaching down with a fist. Louis grins stupidly at him before he reaches out and pokes him, both of them laughing as Liam heads towards the door. "Don't forget the cheerleading outfits!"

"Nice bloke, that," Louis says as he turns to Harry, giving him a considering look. Harry just stares back at him blankly. "Could do worse."

"Him or me?" Harry wonders.

"Both of you," Louis says before he glares at the door when Zayn enters. "Have you figured out if he likes boys yet or is he like Zayn here, only letting out crucial information when he feels like it?"

Zayn ignores him and heads to the counter.

"Tea please mate!" Louis calls out pleasantly, laughing when Zayn flips him off behind his back.

"I think I'm in love," Harry murmurs as he falls into Louis and moans loudly.

"There, there," Louis croons and pets his hair gently. "He's a slow burn, love. He'll realise how amazing you are sooner or later. Have you thought about just making a move? You're a great kisser. I'm sure he'd love it."

"Thanks," Harry says sincerely as he pulls himself up and finishes his coffee as Zayn takes a seat, holding out a cup of tea to a grinning Louis. "I just don't want to scare him off though."

"Don't be you then," Zayn says, amused as Harry pouts sadly at him.

"Maybe he thinks I'm not funny enough," Harry says thoughtfully, still pouting at Zayn. "I should tell him my favourite knock-knock jokes."

"Shit, no!"

"Don't you fucking dare!"

*

Harry manages to keep his Liam conversations to a bare minimum over the next two days. He's busy in the library and coffee shop both days anyway, catching up on work and trying to get ahead of him for once. Louis can't understand why, but Harry just finds himself in a productive mood every now and again and he finds it best to just go with it. Besides, it'll clear his weekend for once, rather than trying to catch up on his reading with a hangover on Sunday, which is what inevitably happens every week. He falls asleep on Louis Thursday evening, crashing onto his bed when he gets back to their dorm after midnight and letting Louis wrap him up tightly. Luckily when he wakes up, Louis was kind enough to strip him to his boxers and leave a post-it note on his forehead telling him that he weighs a tonne. It's not until he's in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth wearily that he realises Louis' written on his arm as well, etching his skin with the words, _I'm borrowing your stupid hearts shirt tonight, u owe me_.

Harry thinks it's a fair trade as he scrubs at the black ink with a long-suffering sigh.

When he crawls back to their room around mid-afternoon, he chooses to fall into his own bed this time. He thinks he's only been asleep for a few minutes when he feels a weight drop onto him.

"Geddof," he mutters into the pillow, even as his hand is curling around to tickle Louis' tummy or wherever he can reach.

"Finished your little teacher's pet phase then?" Louis asks as he slides down onto the bed and turns onto his back, staring up at their turning-slightly-yellow-with-old-paint ceiling. Harry just grunts into his semi-ironic Harry Potter pillow, where he's nuzzled face first, limbs flailed outward. Harry maintains that it's not as bad as the Spiderman set Louis has on his bed. Louis argues that his bedding is more ironic than Harry's. It's an argument that never seems to end, only take short breaks before it rears up again, usually on laundry days. It's nothing compared to the bickering they've done over what goes on the walls - Louis' side is a shrine to himself and all his mates, with photographs stuck up haphazardly, a new one going up most days. He's covered half the wall already and is threatening to start covering the ceiling. Harry finds the whole thing creepy, to be honest. His side has three posters up. Rolling Stones, Elvis and a movie poster for Love Actually. Louis actually scowls at them when he finds himself facing any of them. "You're awful, you know that?"

"Why'sat?" Harry asks, giving up on sleep as he turns his head the absolute minimal amount to the right to crack open one eye and glare at Louis. "You're awful."

"Well obviously," Louis says easily, grabbing Harry's pillow and yanking out from under him, shoving it behind his back where he's sitting up against the wall as Harry faceplants the mattress with a loud groan. "But you're awful because now you can get as trashed as you like while I have the choice of getting trashed and doing my essay with a hangover or not getting trashed and having to look after you or something equally dreadful because I'll be sober and responsible."

"Responsible?" Harry echoes as he reaches across the mattress to poke Louis' thigh.

"Yes, Harold, responsible," Louis says smartly.

Harry says nothing but he watches Louis as he keeps his stare fixed on the ceiling.

"Haz?"

"Yeah babe?"

"Did you really not know about Zayn then?" Louis asks. If his words come out a bit faster than normal, then Harry won't mention it. "Like, how he likes boys?"

"No love, I didn't," Harry says gently, turning around so he's curled up on his side, facing Louis. He tugs on Louis' arm until he huffs and scoots down on the bed. Harry nicks the pillow back and shoves it under their heads as Louis mirrors his position. "Does it matter?"

Louis squeezes his eyes shut tightly. "Maybe."

Harry winces a little and puts his arm around Louis' waist, tugging him closer until he can envelop Louis with his body. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"Nothing to tell," Louis says defiantly, head buried in Harry's chest.

Harry's hand drifts through Louis' hair, stroking idly. "How long?"

"Since Freshers Week," Louis admits with a wry laugh. He looks up then, blue eyes sharper than usual. "Stupid, huh?"

"Not really," Harry says sincerely. "I fell in love with him too, yeah?"

"But you fall in love with everyone and you get over it in a week," Louis points out. "Except for Liam."

"At least we're in this together," Harry says, trying to be a little positive when really he just wants to throw a massive tantrum until Liam loves him back. He knows Louis would join him, at least.

"Not really cheering me up there, mate," Louis says but he ruffles Harry's hair gently and they sink down into the bed. They spend the next half hour with Harry tracing patterns onto Louis' arm and Louis pulling random strands of Harry's hair until they're both relaxed and their minds have cleared.

"I think you should tell him," Harry says finally as Louis' half out of the bed and heading for the shower. "You might be surprised."

"Are you going to tell Liam?" Louis counters, pausing and looking over his shoulder. He looks serious, like Harry's answer really matters.

"If Liam gave me any indication that he was interested, I would," Harry says honestly. Not that he's honestly expecting Liam to do any such thing any time soon, if ever, but he can dream.

Louis holds his gaze for a long moment before he ducks his head and disappears into the bathroom, leaving Harry to fall back against the mattress and wonder how he's going to find time to push Zayn and Louis together when he's very busy trying to make Liam fall in love with him.

It's a good thing he's ahead on his classes.

By the time Zayn's knocking on the door and strolling in, looking particularly delectable in his skinny black jeans, boots and leather jacket with a bright red scarf that should look odd but it's so _Zayn_ and he's an actual model, so Harry kind of hates him.

"You look awful," Harry tells him as he looks up from where he's tugging on his own boots. He's chosen what he hopes is going to be his ultimate Liam fantasy look, where Liam will take one look at him and realise Harry's the fittest boy he's ever seen and run over to sweep Harry into his arms and kiss him senseless. Harry's kind of had that little fantasy running in a loop in his brain for the past hour. He's got black skinny jeans on like Zayn, but that's where the similarities end. While Zayn's wearing heavy black biker boots, Harry's got his favourite (he might even say lucky if Louis isn't within hearing range) brown boots on. He's chosen a loose-necked white t-shirt that shows off just enough skin, in Harry's opinion. He'd rather show off more, but Louis got tired of walking in on Harry mostly naked and made him promise to wear more clothes. At all times.

He's accessorising the outfit with a dark blue hoodie, a white woolly scarf and a long jacket. He's quietly confident that Liam's going to find him irresistible.

"Thanks man," Zayn says easily. "Where's Lou?"

"On his ninth outfit change," Harry says, bending down to rub a scuff mark from his boot.

"Shut up!" Louis yells from behind the bathroom door. "This is my seventh!"

"Sorry, his seventh outfit change," Harry corrects himself dryly. He looks up and grins at Zayn. "You don't really look awful. You look great. And that's what's awful."

Zayn mostly ignores him and rests against the door, crossing his ankles casually.

"Oh fuck off," Harry says with a laugh, grabbing one of Louis' sneakers from where it's half under his bed, next to a few loose papers and a half-eaten orange and throws it at Zayn. Annoyingly, it misses him completely and Zayn doesn't even have to move. "Crap."

"Right, what about this one?" Louis huffs as he flings open the door dramatically and strides into the room. Harry knows he's projecting a false confidence so he takes his time to consider the tight blue jeans and cream jumper that makes him look so damn snuggly that Harry kind of hates him too. While he's a victim to fashion and will probably freeze to death before Liam snogs him, Louis will be warm and toasty and infinitely beautiful. Harry hates his friends sometimes.

"Definite yes," Harry says, reaching out to grab Louis' hand and squeeze it before he stands up and moves towards the bathroom door, effectively blocking it while trying to look innocent.

"Zayn? Fuckable or not?" Louis asks, his features slightly pinched and his glare a bit too sharp.

"Yes," Zayn says lazily. "Let's go."

Louis looks grump at Zayn's lack of enthusiasm but grabs a warm duffel coat and shrugs it on, toeing his feet into sneakers and grabbing his keys as they file out and head for Zayn's car.

After a half hour car journey that was mostly spent arguing over music choices that resulted in none of them listening to anything they wanted to, they trudge over to their seats, out of sorts and sniping at each other. Harry finds himself in the middle, feeling awkward and uncomfortable sitting between his two best mates. He tries to overcompensate with loud conversation but when all he gets is matching glares in return, he slumps back in his seat and crosses his arms, sulking.

He can't even manage a smile when the team emerges. Niall finds them immediately, like a bloody homing pigeon, and waves like a madman. Zayn manages a quick wave, Louis finds his enthusiasm and waves back, hollering insults and wolf-whistles alike, which seems to make Niall laugh a lot. Harry raises a smile, but mostly he's still grumpy at having to sit between the two idiots with him.

Even when Liam turns to them and smiles, his arm slung around Niall, Harry can't do more than send a quick smile back, but he doesn't stand up and he doesn't unfold his arms. If he wants to be miserable because his best mates are idiots who possibly love each other in a very different way to how Harry loves them, and because the boy he's in love with doesn't appear to like him all that much, then that's Harry's business.

Harry's mood barely improves in the first half. It's not until Zayn buys him a hotdog and Louis buys him a beer at half time that he starts to smile. And when they both resort to tickling him, Harry figures all's forgiven and he's up and ready to cheer when the boys come running back on. They're winning comfortably, 2-0, so it's not like they need cheerleaders or anything, but the three of them become one voice, shouting abuse and accolades in equal measure. When Louis shouts out an insult at Liam's ability to tackle, Harry smacks him around the head and shoves him a little. But aside from that, they're in sync and cheerfully wrapped around each other by the final whistle, cheering with their free arms raised and shouting Niall and Liam's names over and over.

Harry quite clearly lip-reads Niall's "Crazy mofos," as he stares up at them from the pitch, shaking his head in disbelief. He sees Liam pat Niall's back as he just nods. Liam actually looks really, really happy for once when he looks up and catches Harry's glance. Harry lets his own happiness shine through, happy for Liam that he won, happy that Liam's happy. Time seems to freeze for just a second before Liam ducks his head and Niall chases him into the locker room.

Harry's suddenly feeling rather warm and a little breathless.

He's kind of in a daze for the entire trip back, letting Louis have his way for the music selection and it's not until they pull up back at uni and head off to the party that Harry manages to get his brain to function again enough to realise that it's entirely possible that Liam and Harry just had a real, honest-to-God _moment_ back there.

He's buzzing too high to drink very much, he's still on his first drink while Louis is obnoxiously knocking back his fourth, apparently under some notion of pretending he doesn't give a fuck that Zayn is flirting lazily with a few girls from his art course right across the room from them.

Harry spends a good hour trying to calm Louis down and listening to Louis vehemently deny that he cares what Zayn does or who he does it to and do you see how close that stupid girl is to Zayn and back off love and fuck why is he so pretty Harry and so forth until Louis slumps into a corner, cuddled up to Niall who appeared at some point - Harry's not entirely sure when or how much time has passed because it feels like forever - and has Louis tucked into him on the sofa and is muttering some rubbish that seems to be calming Louis down in a way that Harry hasn't been able to manage. Probably because Harry hates seeing Louis upset, especially over Zayn, and just wants to comfort him when he'd probably respond to tough love better.

He spends another hour talking to two guys from his course and a guy from a party a few weeks ago that he met. He then gets waylaid by a girl who works at the coffee shop and Harry tries extra hard to charm her, since his coffee is pretty important to him, before he spots Liam.

It takes him two second exactly to realise that Liam's drunk. Liam, who he's only ever seen sip at his drinks before and always seems to be level-headed and almost sober at these parties, is completely, utterly, hysterically drunk. He's laughing at someone, his head thrown back and his face alight with laughter. Harry thinks he looks beautiful.

He looks _so_ beautiful that Harry just leans back against the wall and stares at him, a smile playing on his lips as Liam loses his balance a little and giggles, he _giggles_ , as someone steadies him. Liam's hand is actually covering his own mouth as if he can stop anyone noticing that he's giggling and flailing around a little, his eyes almost disappearing into the crinkles that cover them, his face a little flushed and he just looks so bloody happy that Harry can't help but laugh with him.

His smile doesn't fade as Liam turns slight and sees him. Harry's smile stays firmly in place, honestly he couldn't stop smiling if he tried right now, as Liam weaves his way towards him, still giggling into his hand.

Harry reaches out to steady him as Liam comes to a stop just in front of him, perhaps a little closer than necessary. Harry's hands are wrapped around Liam's biceps and it takes a lot of willpower for Harry not to squeeze and find out just how strong those arms are.

"You look like you're having fun," Harry says, trying not to be so horribly endeared by this Liam. "Celebrating a well-deserved victory?"

Liam raises his arms and whoops, laughing as Harry steadies him, shifting his hands down to Liam's hips. "We won, Harry Styles."

"I know, Liam Payne," Harry mimics as he lets his thumbs trace a pattern against Liam's jeans. "Well done. You were excellent, as usual."

"Thanks," Liam murmurs. His eyes are too bright, his smile too wide and his body too close, but Harry allows himself this one indulgence, just this one time. It's just that Liam smells clean and citrusy, and it's a little intoxicating. Until he leans forward a little and Harry catches the strong smell of beer and he smiles wryly to himself, taking a step back against the wall.

"I've never seen you drink before," Harry says quietly, his hands still resting on Liam's hips. He tries not to react when Liam's hands drop against the wall so that Harry's neatly boxed in, when really he wants to groan in frustration because there's nothing more that he wants than Liam pinning him up against the wall, except Liam's _drunk_ and Harry can't do this.

"Lettin' loose for once," Liam says, his voice dropping an octave and Harry absolutely cannot help the shiver that runs down his spine or the reckless thoughts of whether Liam's voice does that when he's in bed with someone or when there are lips around his dick, tasting him. "Everyone else gets to have all the fun, why not me once in a while?"

Harry lifts a hand to Liam's cheek, cradling him as they both tip their heads in unison, making Harry laugh. "You're entitled to your fun, Liam. What do you like to do for fun, hmm?"

"Kiss pretty boys," Liam murmurs and his eyes drop to Harry's mouth.

Harry's heart is pounding and he aches, he physically _aches_ with the need to kiss Liam, to see if he tastes as good as Harry thinks he does, to find out if his lips are as soft as they look and to discover all the secrets that lie within Liam.

Liam's head ducks down, just a little, but Harry puts his hand out, lets it rest against Liam's chest lightly. It's enough to stop Liam, but neither of them move back. Their bodies are plastered against each other, and because there's barely a difference in their height, everything lines up nicely. Harry can feel Liam's breath on his cheek, and he still has one hand on his hip, the other feeling every shallow breath Liam takes.

"Easy, Li," Harry says, the nickname tripping off his tongue effortlessly. "You're drunk."

"And you're pretty, Harry," Liam whispers softly. "So pretty. Those eyes and the dimples, they're lethal."

Harry tries not to pay attention to the way his tummy flips at that. "You're one to talk with those eyes of yours, Liam."

Liam leans in, his lips almost on Harry's ear and making him shiver with the sensation of his breath warm on his skin. "You should take me home."

"Yeah, okay," Harry agrees breathlessly, his hand dropping from Liam and reaching for his hand instead. They fit together perfectly, fingers curled around each other and Harry lets his thumb trail gently across Liam's skin before he smiles at him and starts moving towards the door.

It turns out that Liam's actually a devious little shit because his other hand goes around Harry's waist and Liam crowds up behind him, pressing against him and making Harry whimper under his breath as he keeps moving until they're finally outside and Harry can breathe in cool air and put some distance between them.

But he keeps his hand locked in Liam's.

"Which way is home, stud?" Harry asks as Liam laughs and tugs him closer. Harry lets himself be manhandled a little because he's not a fucking saint and Liam's got those arms and if this is all he gets, a night of drunken Liam, then he's taking it and he's not going to feel bad about it.

Liam nuzzles into his neck and Harry curls his free hand around Liam's neck, lets his fingers dance up Liam's neck and into his hair, scratching his scalp gently as he discovers that Liam's hair is softer than it looks. Harry files the information away for later.

"Left," Liam mumbles against his skin.

"Okay, but you'll have to lead," Harry tells him as he pulls away slowly, smiling at Liam who looks a bit dopey as he smiles back and fuck it if Harry doesn't find that adorable as well and they head left. Liam seems to have regained his balance and he starts to swing their hands back and forth.

Harry really wishes Liam was sober right now.

Every few steps, Liam starts to giggle again and he pulls Harry close, rubbing his lips against Harry's neck or his cheek before he darts away again. It's driving Harry crazy because this Liam, this drunk, carefree, wonderful Liam is so delightful and just another piece in the puzzle of Liam Payne. Harry is yet to see a piece he doesn't like, or one that doesn't fit.

It takes them far longer to get to Liam's dorm than the distance suggests, but finally Liam's tugging a key out of his pocket and staring at it like it confuses him.

"I hope your roommate is still out or fast asleep," Harry mutters as he plucks the key out of Liam's hands and slides it into the lock. He pushes the door open and peers in, surprised that there's only one bed inside but pleased that they're not going to wake up a cranky roommate. He turns the light on and steps inside, Liam following docilely and pushing the door closed behind him.

The room is a bit of a mess, but no worse than his and Louis' room. The posters on the wall range from David Beckham to Usher and he's got some photos on his desk which look like family judging from the resemblance. Harry laughs when he sees the Batman sheets on his bed and wonders if Louis and Liam have ever shared their love of comic book superheroes.

"Nice place," Harry says as he pushes Liam down onto his bed. Liam falls easily and effortlessly, which Harry's grateful for because he sincerely doubts he'd ever force Liam to do something he didn't want to do, seeing as he looks like he's got at least 20 pounds on him and he's pure muscle, while Harry's ... not. Harry drops to the floor and tries to pretend he doesn't hear Liam's wicked chuckle at Harry being on his knees in front of him. Instead, he focuses on tugging Liam's boots off and his socks. Then he gets to work on Liam's jeans, pulling them off with more ease then he'd expected. He tries really hard not to look at Liam's boxers or the bulge that he's not looking at, not at all as he gets Liam's shirt over his head.

"Come on, babe, let's get you into bed," Harry says, pulling the duvet back and pushing Liam down gently. When Liam grabs his hand and holds on, staring up at him, Harry bites down hard on his bottom lip and shakes his head. "Nope, just you sleeping in this bed tonight."

"You don't want me?" Liam asks in a small voice and Harry's eyes widen, his heart sinking as he reaches up to stroke Liam's hair in comfort.

"If you had any idea how much I want to crawl into this bed with you ..." Harry breaks off and leans down to rest his head against Liam's, his movements slow and sluggish. "But you're drunk and if we ever get to do this again, I want you completely sober and aware of exactly what, and who, you're doing."

"You're Harry," Liam says artlessly, trying to clumsily tug Harry closer but he stays where he is. "I want you, Harry."

"I want you too," Harry whispers helplessly. "So much."

He stands up abruptly, leaning down to press a hard kiss on the top of Liam's head before he backs away, almost running out the door. He runs all the way home, his body aching and his lungs painfully drawing in the cold air as he pushes into the dorm room. Louis is fast asleep, curled onto his side like usual. Harry strips quickly and curls up behind him, burrowing his head into Louis' hard shoulder as he tells himself over and over again that he did the right thing. Even if he wishes it could have been different.

*

With end of term exams looming, Harry's spending all of his time either in the library or in the coffee shop. He barely sees Louis or Zayn, let alone anyone else. When he's in the coffee shop, his face is buried in whatever textbook he's reading or scribbling notes furiously, his headphones shoved in to make sure no one talks to him because he knows if he stops and chats, he'll never get everything done. So he keeps his beanie pulled down low and his head down. It works for him, on the whole.

He ignores Niall's pleas to get them to come to their last football match of the year, claiming too much work. Niall gives him that knowing look that he has (Harry thinks it's insufferable, actually) but lets the excuse slide.

Louis happens to be doing his best to avoid Zayn, for reasons Harry has yet to wrangle out of him, although he hasn't tried very hard if he's being honest because he's not inclined to risk Louis asking him about Liam either. So they spend their days in the library or class and their evenings holed up in their room, cuddled on one of their beds while they watch telly on Louis' little screen that he took from home. The reception is a bit crap but they manage to get through hours of soaps and a few episodes of Downton Abbey, much to Louis' disgust.

And they don't talk about Liam or Zayn.

Harry manages to get through his exams, exhausted and drained and longing for home. He's also managed to avoid Liam completely since the party and if he got a text full of sad faces and broken heart emojis from Niall after their last game, then he's not going to feel guilty about it. Not even when Niall texts him Liam's number and tells him that Liam looked for him in the crowd and seemed to not play quite as well (although they still won so Harry doubts anything Niall's ever said).

He meets Zayn for one last coffee before they both head home.

"Haven't seen you or Louis around in forever," Zayn says as he stirs his coffee over and over again. He's keeping his head down but then again, Harry's looking at everything except Zayn so they probably just look ridiculous to any outsider.

"Busy with exams," Harry says apologetically, staring over Zayn's shoulder at a picture of two kids climbing a tree. "Louis' still asleep, mate."

Zayn nods as if everything's normal except they both know it's not and Harry's still not sure what, if anything, has happened between the two of them but Zayn's not pushing it and Harry's not willing to put himself in the middle of them.

"You off tomorrow then?" Zayn asks finally before taking a sip of his coffee and leaning back, looking a little less tense.

"Yeah, can't wait," Harry says and even he can hear the weariness in his voice. He's been feeling out of sorts for a few weeks now and he just wants to go home and have his mum look after him and let Gemma tease him and just bury himself in the warm cocoon of his family. "You?"

"Day after," Zayn answers. Harry finds his hand being covered by Zayn's cool one and he looks up in surprise. "Just, like, I'll see you when you get back, yeah? Both of you."

Harry nods, his throat tightening as Zayn nods once and his hand is slipping away, leaving them on opposite sides of the table once more.

"Have a good Christmas, yeah?" Harry says when he stands up and slips his jacket on. He drops his hand onto Zayn's shoulder and squeezes gently. Zayn's hand covers his and Harry tumbles himself into Zayn's lap, his arms wrapped tightly around Zayn's neck. "I don't know why everything's so weird, Zayn. I hate it."

Zayn's hands rub his back slowly. "Me neither, babe. Maybe it'll sort itself out after Christmas, yeah?"

Harry presses a sloppy kiss against Zayn's cheek and gets to his feet. He's out of the door before he can look back and he heads straight for the dorms, glaring at Louis as he slams in and throws himself down on his own bed.

"Alright?" Louis asks after a beat.

"Just saw Zayn," Harry mutters into his duvet. He curls himself around it until he's in a ball, completely tangled. "S'weird. Hate it."

Louis doesn't answer because really there's nothing to say.

* 

Louis drives them home. The journey is painfully silent, but neither of them make any effort to break it. Harry gives him a brief hug before he tumbles out of the car, dirty washing in one arm and everything else in his other. His mum comes running out of the house to greet him, waving at Louis as he backs out of the drive. Harry lets his mum pull him inside and it's not long before he's curled up on the sofa, watching cartoons with Gemma and drinking tea made by Robin while his mum makes dinner. With his head on Gemma's shoulder, despite her vocal protests and his arm curled around her while she idly pets his hair, Harry's never been happier to be home.

He goes out with Louis on his birthday, stumbling home drunk at 2am on Christmas day with a fit of giggles that he tries to stifle as he crashes through the house on the way to his room. They'd called Zayn from the club, FaceTiming him and it was so bloody normal that Harry hugged Louis a little tighter when Louis yelled at Zayn for not getting him a present and Zayn threatened to hang up for the fifth time but made no move whatsoever to actually go through with it. When Louis showed Harry his text from Zayn later, when they'd both had more shots than they should have and Louis was weaving a little, Harry beamed at Zayn's promise to bring his present round the first day back at Uni.

In fact, he was so happy that when he collapsed into bed, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he reached Liam.

Without second-guessing himself, with the absolute confidence of alcohol, Harry texted Liam.

**Merry xmas liiiiiiam! Sorry i missed your last game, niall said you were amazing .xx**

**Harry by the way! .xx**

**Sorry it's really late! .xx**

Harry passes out, phone in hand.

He doesn't remember the texts until Boxing Day when he texts Louis and the texts to Liam show up. Cringing, he deletes them as if the lack of evidence makes them nonexistent. He doesn't mention it to Louis when he shows up, hungover and knackered, and they vegetate on the sofa together.

Harry's feeling much better when they head back to university, except for the whole Liam situation, because he never texted back and Harry is almost certain that he's got no chance of making Liam love him now.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with Zayn?" Harry asks as they carry the last of their stuff into their room. Harry grimaces as he faces making his bed with fresh sheets but dives in, figuring the sooner it's done, the sooner he can crawl into bed and think about Liam's arms. He's thought about Liam's arms a hell of a lot over Christmas and he thinks he might have a slight obsession.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with Liam?" Louis shoots back, his whole body tensing up as Harry plumps his pillows.

"He got drunk, said he liked me and I haven't seen him since." Harry's tone is light as he starts to put his duvet cover on. "That's it. Whole story."

"I spent that whole night glaring at Zayn because it's completely unfair to just announce to your best mates that sometimes you like boys, like who does that?" Louis spins around and glares at Harry, who just holds his free hand up in peace. "And maybe we had a little argument along those lines and I stormed off and I haven't seen him since."

Harry stays quiet until he's finished making his bed. He reaches over and tugs Louis backwards until they fall onto the mattress together.

"Let's make a pact," Harry whispers. "We try being honest with our crushes."

"Nope," Louis says easily, shaking his head firmly. "Not going to happen."

"Lou, c'mon!" Harry pleads. He keeps pleaded all night but Louis remains adamant that suffering in silence is going to be his game-plan and he's not going to be swayed away from it.

Harry figures he can wear him down eventually.

* 

Niall invites them to the next game, the first Friday back. Harry's been hanging around the coffee shop in his free time in the hopes of running into Liam. He's not sure exactly what he wants to say to Liam when he sees him; probably something along the lines of "hey, remember when you were drunk and said you wanted me?" but he's not sure if it'll go down all that well. He's not sure leading with "didn't you get my texts over Christmas" is any better though. So he jumps at the invitation and convinces Louis and Zayn to come as well. And if he forgets to tell them about the other coming, then it's hardly his fault if they don't ask.

He spends most of Friday in their room, trying to decide between his black skinnies or his blue skinnies. He ends up in his black skinnies with a red plaid shirt, unbuttoned almost to his tummy and a low cut white t-shirt underneath. Before he can talk himself out of it, he's walking towards Liam's dorm hoping that he's in. He hesitates before he knocks, but it's a momentary pause before his hand raps down on the door.

When Liam opens the door, he looks a little shocked to see Harry standing there looking a bit sheepish. He takes advantage of Liam's surprise and walks in, leaving Liam to close the door behind him and lean against it. That damn frown is back on his face though and Harry really, _really_ hates that frown.

"Hey Harry," Liam says a little falteringly. But his eyes don't move from Harry and he's not throwing him out, so Harry feels a little braver.

"You didn't text me back." And, okay. Probably not the best opening he could have gone with but the words were hovering on his lips and he desperately wants to know why Liam didn't answer.

Liam flushes and he finally looks away, but only for a few seconds. "Uh, you seemed a bit drunk."

Oh. "Yeah, it was Louis' birthday on Christmas Eve. But I meant it. I'm going to the game tonight. I mean, we all are. All three of us." Harry needs to stop talking.

Liam's just staring at him and Harry's feeling awkward, a feeling he's not all that familiar with.

"Sorry about that night," Liam eventually says, waving his hand over his bed and dropping his gaze to stare at the floor. "I got a bit carried away with celebrating."

"How much of the night do you remember?" Harry's genuinely curious.

Liam hesitates like he doesn't want to answer but he does, resignedly. "Most of it."

And well, Harry thinks that's practically an invitation. He licks his lips as he steps closer to Liam. "You remember telling me that you like kissing pretty boys?"

Liam nods slowly, his gaze dropping to Harry's mouth before he pulls himself back up.

Harry keeps moving until he's in front of Liam. "You remember asking me to take you home?"

Liam nods again, his body flat against the door. Harry remembers that night in minute detail. Remembers Liam crowding him against the wall and he's a big believer in turnabout being fair play. His hands rest against the door, either side of Liam's shoulders.

"And my dimples and my eyes, what did you call them again?" Harry murmurs as he moves in close.

"Lethal," Liam says and his voice sounds raspy and a bit breathless.

Harry smiles and he watches Liam's gaze drop to his dimples before his breath hitches. Harry can feel it warm against his skin.

Harry waits for Liam's hand to come between them, to mirror that night, but his hands close around Harry's hips instead and he's not sure if Liam's drawing him in or if he's drawing Liam in but Liam's lips are finally on his and he can't seem to breathe. Liam's everywhere, surrounding him and engulfing him and his hands are moving to rest against Liam's chest, gathering in Liam's sweatshirt like an anchor. He can smell that citrus scent that seems so vitally Liam and he can feel Liam's heart racing against his fist and all he wants is to get closer.

He can feel Liam's fingers digging into his hips as Liam slants his soft mouth a little and Harry helplessly opens his mouth, lets Liam's tongue slide in against his own. His skin is on fire and he still can't quite catch his breath, lost as he is in this fog Liam's woven around him. He can hear Liam's whimper and like a chain reaction, his own whimper rises up just as his tummy flips and he's fighting to get closer. He slots his knee between Liam's thighs and gasps at the feel of Liam around him. He pulls back but only by an inch before he's trailing kisses down Liam's jaw and down his neck. His skin is flushed and warm and it tastes delicious. Harry takes a little nip, laughing softly as Liam sucks in a breath like he's drowning. But the lure of Liam's lips is too strong and he's moving back, his lips fastened against Liam's again as he feels himself harden, can feel Liam hardening against him as well.

He wants to touch, wants to learn everything he can about Liam's body and his likes and his turn-ons. He wants to taste every inch of Liam and breathe in his scent until it clings to him as well. He's the one drowning now, his hands smoothing out across Liam's chest while he tries to remember to breath.

Harry feels Liam stiffen a split second before he's being wrenched away from Liam's lips and Liam's body and Liam's support and Harry's arms fly out to steady himself against the wall. He's breathing hard, Liam is too. But Liam won't look at him and Harry's still intoxicating, reaching back for Liam, for one last taste, for one last kiss but Liam's holding his hand up to stop him and he takes a breath to steady himself. His breathing is still ragged and he feels like he's got too much energy and he needs Liam to touch him again but he's shaking his head and still avoiding Harry's gaze.

"I can't do this," he whispers finally, closing his eyes. "I don't do this kind of thing." He looks pale and drawn and Harry hates it. He hates Liam like this, even though he wants to argue that Liam _does_ do this because Harry's bruised and slick lips say so, but he hates the way Liam looks shattered and brittle and hating himself so he steps back, lets Liam move away from the door and lets himself out, closing the door behind him before he makes the long, slow walk back to his dorm.

The room's empty when he walks in and he can't help sliding down the door as he closes it, resting his back against the hard, cold wood as he tips his head back and closes his eyes and sometimes he just can't believe his life. He thought Liam was definitely gay. Definitely out and definitely into boys. And maybe into him, even. But he's confused and in denial, no matter what drunken confessions he makes when he's put too much away or how sweet his kisses are.

Harry lifts a hand to rub over his cheeks, where he can still feel the slight burn of Liam's stubble across his soft skin. Sighing, he drops his head forward onto his arms where they're crossed over his bent knees and tries to remember to breathe.

He's not sure how long he sits there, just breathing in and out even though his heart is still racing, before the door shoves against him and he hears a loud curse. He shuffles out of the way and Louis pokes his head through, looking down at Harry in utter confusion.

"Oh shit," he mutters as he takes in Harry's slumped shoulders and the way he's trying to curl into himself. He shoves the door wide enough to squeeze through and then he's pulling Harry up into a cuddle. "What's wrong love? What happened?"

Harry lets himself be drawn to his bed where Louis sits down and pulls Harry onto his lap, even though Harry's bigger and is probably squashing Louis.

"Kissed Liam," he croaks finally, his voice husky with unshed tears.

"Oh love," Louis's immediately cooing, his hand rubbing calming strokes up and down Harry's back while he buries his head into Louis' shoulder.

It takes him a minute to compose himself but he manages and smiles down at Louis tremulously, trying to ignore Louis' sympathetic expression, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. "Apparently Liam isn't quite okay with the whole attracted to boys thing, as it turns out."

"Idiot," Louis mutters loyally. Harry manages a small smile before he shoves Louis back until they're lying haphazardly on the bed, which is where they stay, staying silent but always touching, giving comfort, until Zayn walks in and eyes them warily.

"What's happened?" he asks with a sigh.

Harry reaches up for Zayn's hand and tugs him down until Harry's sandwiched between his two boys. "Liam's an idiot."

"Cool," Zayn says lazily as he traces a pattern on Harry's arm where it's flung across Zayn's belly. "Why?"

"Gay freak out," Louis yells from where he's half buried underneath Harry.

"Want me to go shout at him or something?" Zayn offers, his movements pausing for a second.

Harry reaches up to press a quick kiss against his cheek and snuggles into his shoulder, feeling a bit better already. "Nah. Maybe later."

And with Zayn stroking his arm and Louis' hand on his chest, Harry feels marginally better. He still feels awful and he can't shake the image of Liam looking miserable as Harry walked out the door and he really can't shake the memory of Liam's lips on his or how his fingers dug into his skin possessively, but Zayn and Louis make it just about bearable.

"So I guess we're not going to the match then," Zayn says finally, shifting onto his side so he can look at Harry. Louis mirrors him on the other side.

"We have to go," Louis says, poking Harry's cheek sharply and perhaps a little harder than normal.

"Yeah, I know." Harry mostly just wants the ground to swallow him up, but luck isn't on his side today. At all.

"What? Why do we have to go?" Zayn frowns at Louis, who just crosses his eyes in response.

"Pride," Harry says with a sigh because sometimes he just wants to scream that he has no pride and he's hurting and feels awful but pride will force him to go to the game and cheer Liam and Niall on like nothing's happened.

"Pride," Louis repeats softly and reverently.

"Fuck pride," Zayn scoffs but he checks his watch and reminds them that they've got five minutes before they need to leave. Louis scoots off the bed and disappears into the wardrobe, emerging a minute later with a pile of clothes in his hands.

Harry tells him to wear the blue jeans and the red jumper. Zayn nods in agreement, although he's not even looking because he's on his phone. But Harry sees him looking up when Louis starts stripping and he smiles to himself because at least some people might get what they want most.

Louis spends five minutes doing his hair until Zayn's pulling them out of the room, giving his own hair one last check before they're walking across campus and finding seats. When the team comes out, Louis and Zayn both move closer to Harry and he finds himself in some kind of three-way line hug. Niall waves and Zayn and Louis wave back, smiling widely and giving him the thumbs up. Harry manages a fairly weak smile before it drops and he just wants to burrow himself away. Liam jogs onto the pitch slowly and Harry can see him looking around. He almost trips himself when he sees Harry, before he stops and stares at the three of them. Harry can't manage a smile this time and neither Louis or Zayn wave or yell to him like they usually do. Harry's made it here and he can apparently look at Liam even though he feels like maybe his heart is breaking just a little, but he can't smile at him and he can't pretend everything's okay because he's _not_. And Liam's wearing that goddamn frown again and Harry has to look away because he really can't bear it any more.

"He's not looking anymore," Louis says quietly and Harry nods before he turns back towards the pitch and keeps his eyes firmly on Niall. He misses most of the action because he's watching Niall so intently, but Louis' giving a running commentary on the game, sounding cheerful whenever Liam loses possession and yelling when they score.

It's a lesson in stubborn determination but Harry makes it through the entire 90 minutes (plus half time) and even manages to clap when the teams head off. They won, but only by a goal and Louis mutters to him that the captain is yelling at Liam but Liam doesn't seem to be listening as they trudge off the pitch.

"Liam was distracted, if you ask me," Zayn says, reaching down to grab Harry's hand. He smiles gratefully at Zayn but it doesn't really make him feel any better because Liam still doesn't want to kiss him.

"Let's go," Louis says, turning to leave and leading the way. "We'll only stay at the party for an hour, yeah? Show our faces. Then we'll go back to ours and eat Ben & Jerry's all night and watch whatever sappy movie you want, okay?"

Harry nods, flinging himself at Louis' back and cuddling him desperately hard for a second because Louis is the absolute best mate in the whole world and he's going to make sure Louis is kissing Zayn and they're being disgustingly happy together sooner rather than later.

"Can we get trashed first though?" Harry asks, his half-arsed plan still forming while they walk towards whichever house has been designated for the post-match party.

Louis gives him a look. Zayn slings his arms around both of them and leads them inside. "Whatever you like, babe."

This time, the quieter room is upstairs in one of the bedrooms, so Harry piles onto the bed tucked between Louis and Zayn and they're joined by a handful of others. Niall finds them on their third drink and Harry's mood has lifted considerably. Enough that he scoots to the end of the bed and pulls Niall down next to him.

"You are beautiful, Niall Horan," Harry tells him seriously as he leans on his shoulder. "Anyone ever tell you that?"

"A few times," Niall laughs as his arm curls around Harry's back easily. His fingers accidentally brush Harry's skin where Liam's fingers had been earlier and he must have bruises because the light sensation of Niall's hand hurts, but Harry kind of likes it. "Mostly me mum."

"Liar," Harry scolds him, but his laugh gives him away. "I bet you hear it all the time."

"No more than you do, I bet," Niall responds before he takes a swig of his beer.

And Harry doesn't want to think about the last boy who called him pretty because he's almost certain that boy doesn't _want_ to think Harry's pretty and he has to somehow stop liking that boy because nothing but heartache lies that way.

Another drink later and Harry's still trying to tell himself that. Niall's been dragging him from room to room, which Harry is only allowing because it gives Zayn and Louis a chance to be alone (in a roomful of people) and Harry's determined to see his friends happy if he can't be.

So when he and Niall walk back into the first room, Harry sees them first. Zayn's got a lapful of Louis and he's giggling at Zayn, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other on Zayn's cheek.

"Woah, what's going on there?" Niall's eyes bug out a little and Harry can feel himself getting defensive.

"You got a problem with them?" Harry's almost bristling. _I can't do this_  repeats in his head over and over.

"Nah mate," Niall frowns at Harry, looking a little bemused. "Just didn't see it coming, that's all."

Harry's body loosens where he didn't realise he'd tensed up and he quickly places a hand on Niall's arm, his smile easy again. "Sorry Nialler. Complete overreaction. Nothing to do with you, I promise."

Niall nods and his answering smile is easy too and soon they're wolf-whistling at the couple of the bed and laughing when Louis doesn't stop looking at Zayn, doesn't stop smiling goofily at him but he flips them the finger over his shoulder anyway.

"Alright mate."

Harry's still laughing as he turns away from the room and finds himself staring at Liam. Liam, who looks really good in his tight jeans and white shirt and leather jacket. Harry can't even process that he's wearing leather because he's staring at Liam and Liam's staring at him and everything feels frozen. Harry shivers a little because it's suddenly gotten cold and Niall's inching away for some reason but all Harry can do is stare at Liam and wish for a different life. One where Liam wants him as much as he wants Liam and one where Liam's not on the football team and doesn't care what people think.

He realises belated that Liam's not looking at him anymore but over his shoulder, presumably at Louis and Zayn. He glances back and sees they've progressed to being gross and making out with tongues and hands are everywhere and he needs to have a word with Louis about being classy and less trampy, even if it is with Zayn and even if he's wanted Zayn for over a year and he's finally managed to get him.

"Problem?" Harry asks, keeping his voice low as he stares at Liam's shocked expression. His eyebrows are almost knitted together because he's frowning so hard and his hands are balled into fists and that's probably not a good thing, so Harry steps into the doorway and blocks Liam's view. And his path inside in case Liam's feeling stupid.

Liam's gaze locks on Harry's and he has to fight the urge to reach out and hug him. He shoves his hands in his pockets instead and tries his best to look nonchalant.

"I don't understand," Liam says slowly, his gaze flicking back to the couple. "I thought you and Louis ..."

It's all so blindingly obvious that Harry almost turns around and smacks his head against the door. "You thought Louis and I were dating?" he asks quietly, letting his expression drop into neutral as he stares at Liam and tries not to get his hopes up because his heart has already taken a severe bruising today and he's not sure he can cope with another.

"You're always together and cuddling and holding hands ..." Liam trails off as he stares at the floor between them. "I thought ... never mind."

"You thought I was dating Louis and making a move on you?" Harry asks, keeping his voice calm and level as Liam flushes bright red, even to the tips of his ears, and Harry really shouldn't find that as endearing as he does.

"God I'm sorry Harry," he says in a rush and he's looking up finally and he looks miserable. Absolutely wrecked. "It was a horrible thought to have and you have no idea how hard it was to stop kissing you this afternoon but I thought you had a boyfriend and I realise I'm an idiot and I'm just really sorry, okay?"

Harry bites his bottom lip carefully before he speaks. "They've been dancing around each other for over a year, you know."

Liam nods miserably. "I'm so sorry."

"Seems like they've wasted a year when they could have spent that time, like, making out and wanking each other off and having sex, you know?"

Liam looks like he's in pain and Harry's almost done torturing him for being a dick. Until Liam's hand lifts up to cup Harry's cheek hesitantly, like he's not sure if Harry's going to smack his hand away or move back, but Harry does neither. He waits. When Liam's hand finally touches him, he can't help but lean into him which startles both of them Closing his eyes is easier than seeing the look on Liam's face and he just enjoys the feel of Liam's slightly rough-skinned thumb stroking his cheek.

When he's worked up way more than he should be by a simple caress, Harry opens his eyes and reaches up to grab Liam's hand before he tugs him down the hallway and into one of the bedrooms he was in earlier with Niall. It's mostly empty but Harry doesn't care, what he wants is the en-suite he saw earlier. His luck is definitely changing for the better when he pushes the door open and finds it empty, tugging Liam inside and locking the door behind them.

Liam looks scared but hopeful and Harry's still as gone as he ever was over this dumb jock and his lovely eyes and his beautiful arms that should be around him right now but Liam's two steps away from him and Harry's not happy about that at all.

"Come here," he says, deepening his voice deliberately.

He watches the normally confident Liam take a small step forward and it's not enough. Harry reaches out and grabs his jacket, pulling him so close that they're pressed up against each other and _that's_ more like it.

"Pretty sure you've got some making up to do," Harry whispers as his fingers play with Liam's lapels. His lips are parted in invitation and Liam's breathing heavily and Harry just really, really needs to be kissed right now.

"Yeah, okay," Liam murmurs before he dips forward and Harry loses himself in Liam's kiss.

Within minutes they're breathless and aching and desperate. Harry's got his hands under Liam's shirt and is teaching himself all the lines and contours of Liam's body. Liam's hands have dropped to Harry's arse and haven't moved since, just squeezing and rubbing him gently. Harry's wound up tighter than drum thanks to Liam's clever hands and lovely lips and he presses quick kisses across Liam's face, wearing an identical grin to the one on Liam's face.

"I've been wanting to do this for so long," Liam mutters as he arches his neck to let Harry continue his trail across Liam's skin.

"Me too." Harry's wondering if Liam will mind if he just sucks a big lovebite right on his neck where everyone can see it. Not that he's trying to mark Liam up and warn everyone the fuck away from Liam, but he wants to mark Liam up and warn everyone the fuck away from Liam because he's _Harry's_ and Harry doesn't share.

He decides to just go with it and when he hears Liam's whimpers as he sucks and bites down, letting his tongue swirl against Liam's delicious skin, he figures Liam either doesn't mind or hasn't thought it through. Either way. he'll be wearing Harry's mark and Harry gets his way.

When he eases back, pressing one last kiss against Liam's skin where it's turning red and nasty-looking already, Harry's smiling wildly and Liam's eyes are just dazed. Harry tugs him forward for another kiss.

"We should go back to mine," Liam murmurs against Harry's lips. "Like, now."

"Yeah," Harry agrees wholeheartedly but he wants another kiss first. And another. And a third. And Liam's laughing as he tries to open the door while Harry's still trying to kiss him, hanging off him like a limpet.

"Okay, we're never going to make it if you keep kissing me," Liam tells him not at all sternly as he finally gets his hand on the door handle. "No more kissing until we're home, okay?"

"Killjoy," Harry throws out with a pout before he darts forward and presses another kiss against Liam's lips, laughing when Liam kisses him back like he's helpless to resist. "You still need to make everything up to me, you know."

"Am I going to be making this up to you forever?" Liam wonders as they finally head out.

Harry sneaks his hand into Liam's and he squeezes tightly, getting as close to Liam as he can manage without them tripping over each other. "Probably," he says cheerily.

They sneak out of the house, Harry's head mostly ducked down and pressed against Liam's back as they go. When they close the front door behind them and stop, Liam bites his lip as they look at each other.

"Race you back to yours?" Harry offers hopefully.

"I'm pretty fast," Liam tells him honestly.

"Even if I get a head start?" Harry's already shoving Liam hard enough that he stumbles while Harry starts running, cursing his stupid skinny jeans as he tries to stretch his legs out into a natural rhythm. He's laughing as he glances behind him, Liam chasing him and catching up quickly as they race down the path towards Liam's dorm. A few more strides is all Liam needs to pull up alongside him and Harry tries to push himself harder but Liam's easily able to match him, although he shows no signs of bypassing him. As Harry spots Liam's building, he reaches over to give Liam another shove but Liam sidesteps him and Harry almost falls over off-balance, save for Liam's outstretched arm keeping him upright. Harry stumbles against the door, out of breath but giggling as Liam pushes him all the way to his front door. He tries to catch his breath as best he can while Liam fishes out his keys and lets them in, walking in after Liam and pushing past him to throw himself down on his bed.

"Make yourself at home then," Liam says wryly as he drops his keys on his desk and pulls out his phone and wallet, depositing them too.

Harry kicks off his boots and lets them fall to the floor. "Don't mind if I do," he says with a flash of a grin.

Liam toes off his sneakers before he climbs onto the bed next to Harry. And there's a moment where Liam's elbow is in Harry's face and Harry accidentally kicks Liam in the shin and they're both groaning in pain but they're also grinning like idiots. Liam slides his arm underneath Harry and pulls him in so they're on their sides facing each other, Harry's thigh slid between Liam's and their hands on each other's hips.

"Hi," Harry says, trying to repress his amusement but it just makes his dimples flash.

"Hi," Liam echoes before he leans in and presses a soft kiss against Harry's nose. "So can we just, like, talk or something?"

"You've got me in your bed and you want to talk?" Harry teases as he lets his fingers trail down across Liam's belly, feeling his muscles contract underneath him. He glances up and sees Liam's tiny frown and he wonders when they're ever going to fully understand each other. "Hey, I'm teasing."

Liam's frown disappears and his smile is sudden and bright like the sun.

"But you have to at least take this shirt off," Harry continues idly as he plays with one of Liam's buttons. "I've been watching you play football for months now, watching you strip your shirt off after every game before you leave the pitch. It's not fair, you know."

"I might have kind of been doing it on purpose," Liam says slowly, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Harry's fingers still on his shirt and he throws back his head and laughs. Honestly. "Liam, you flirt!" he gleefully accuse when his fingers start moving again, slipping the buttons through their holes. "I need to see you and touch you, okay?"

Liam nods and undoes the buttons on his cuffs, leaning up to shrug out of it.

Harry's breath catches a little, which he tries to cover with a cough because honestly, he's seen nice chests before. But Liam's is so smooth and tanned and muscular without being too much and Harry thinks it's possibly the most beautiful chest he's ever seen in person. He leans down and kisses it, humming in approval as Liam's hands tangle in his hair.

"S'nice," Harry says smoothly, even though he's biting the inside of his cheek to try and stop himself from smiling like an idiot. And maybe drooling.

"You too," Liam says and Harry's not so keen on that idea. His body is lean and toned, but he's got nowhere near the muscle definition that Liam has and he's just going to look scrawny in comparison. But Liam ignores his protests and tugs off his plaid shirt before yanking his shirt over Harry's head. Harry's not shy by any means, but when Liam just stares at him and doesn't say a word, he's half-tempted to try to cover himself up.

Liam leans forward and kisses Harry's chest, lingering for a second and Harry lets out a shaky laugh as he pulls back, smiling up at Harry.

Liam links his hand with Harry's. "So how did you and Louis meet?"

Harry should have known this was going to be Liam's first question. "School. Best friends since Year 7. We were in the same form and it was like meeting a part of myself, you know? We understood each other before we'd even finished our first conversation. Been inseparable ever since."

"Coming to the same uni and dorming together," Liam adds. He looks a bit wistful. "So you've never ..."

"Kissed once, when we were thirteen and Louis announced that he liked boys," Harry says, amused at the memory. "We were in his bedroom, supposedly doing our homework when we were really playing Grand Theft Auto. He paused the game and turned to me, announcing it dramatically. He said that I was probably gay too, and at the time I just believed everything Louis said, like when he said that his mum was a spy and I believed him for like, a year. She's not, by the way. So he said we should kiss, just so our first kisses wouldn't be awkward with anyone else. So we did."

"And was it awkward?" Liam asks, his lips curved wide into a smile.

"Totally," Harry says with a shake of his head. "Louis went in too fast and smacked his teeth against mine. And he shoved his tongue in my mouth but at that tender age, I hadn't realised that tongues were involved in kissing so I reared back and we both fell off the bed. Not exactly romantic."

"Sounds perfect," Liam says, giving into his laughter. "For you two, anyway."

"Yeah, it kind of was," Harry agrees as he pouts at Liam laughing at him. "Heyy, it's not that funny!"

"It is, babe," Liam disagrees, but he tries to curb his chuckles. "So you didn't try for a second kiss?"

"Nah, the first one was bad enough. Bruised my elbow and scarred me mentally for life," Harry reveals solemnly. "But at least he was right about me liking boys."

He pulls Liam in for a slow, easy kiss. It's intoxicating, being in Liam's arms and being surrounded by so much Liam. "I can stay, right?" he mumbles against Liam's lips, half-asleep and high on Liam.

"Go to sleep babe," Liam whispers as he runs his fingers through Harry's curls.

"G'night Liam," Harry slurs as his eyelashes flutter down against his cheeks and sleep overwhelms him.

*

Harry wakes up to Liam's arms tight around him. Opening his eyes, he realises that he's sprawled out on the bed and Liam's on the edge and only his grip on Harry is keeping him from falling. Feeling guilty, Harry shifts carefully, pulling Liam back to safety on the bed and trying not to feel so stupidly delirious this early in the morning. He kisses Liam's forehead gently and strokes his hair back from where it's fallen against his face. It takes him a second to realise that he's not wearing his jeans. Liam must have taken them off after he'd fallen asleep. One wandering hand reveals that Liam's only wearing boxers as well.

Liam stirs and Harry watches as his eyes openly slowly until they focus on Harry. The instant smile that reaches his eyes makes him feel warm and squidgy inside.

"Morning," Liam croaks, tugging Harry closer until their lips meet and Liam sighs into Harry's. "Sleep okay?"

Harry's endeared by how very Liam he is, even first thing in the morning. "Yeah. Waking up's better though."

Liam hums his agreement as they sink into a slow, drugging kiss. Harry fidgets a little against Liam until Liam grips his hips and holds him still. Harry kind of likes that a lot. He falls into Liam, pliant and loose limbed as Liam licks into his mouth carefully and Harry's aware that he's probably got terrible morning breath but Liam doesn't seem to mind and Liam tastes wonderful so maybe that makes up for it. He can feel himself getting hard but Liam doesn't seem to mind very much and it's hardly Harry's fault, he's been sharing a bed with Liam all night and it's morning and he's being thoroughly kissed by Liam and it's a lot to cope with so early in the day.

He's pulled in closer and Harry sighs in gratification as he feels Liam's dick pressing against his hip. He grinds against Liam just a little and the little noises that Liam makes against his mouth are delightful so he grinds a bit harder. Liam's hands are gripping him tighter and Harry's losing his half-hearted battle to keep his hands off Liam because that's what he seemed to want last night. When he feels Liam's hips stutter forward, he takes it as an invitation and rolls himself over Liam, straddling his hips while not breaking the kiss because he's not sure he could bear being pulled away for a second when his skin is on fire like this and his body is so attuned to Liam right now. Liam's warm hands are still on his hips, holding him down against Liam so he figures Liam's okay with what they're doing.

His hands trail down Liam's body until he's teasing at the waistband of Liam's briefs, his fingers brushing against Liam's belly and feeling Liam quivering underneath him.

Harry presses a bruising kiss onto Liam's lips before he's pushing away and sitting back against Liam's thighs, his hand still on Liam's belly as the other drops to cradle Liam's cheek. Liam looks flushed and tense and very, very kissable against the mattress and Harry just really, really wants to fuck him. Or be fucked by him. Harry's an equal opportunity kind of guy.

He slips his finger under Liam's waistband and lets it run just underneath as he watches Liam shudder.

"Yeah?" he's going no further without Liam's complete agreement, no matter how much he wants to.

When Liam nods jerkily, Harry lets out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and grins wickedly. "Oh thank god."

He dives down to kiss Liam hard and fast before he kisses a path down Liam's chest and belly. He hooks his fingers around Liam's boxers and pulls them down and off, wriggling back up so he can wrap his hand around Liam's hard dick. He jerks him with a few quick strokes before he lowers himself down and keeps his eyes on Liam as his mouth closes around Liam, sucking in once hard before he slides down. He rests his hands on Liam's hips and pins him down as he moves slowly up and down Liam's cock, getting used to his taste and the feel of him on Harry's tongue. When he's ready, he slides down further, taking more of Liam into his mouth, hard and heavy. He can hear Liam moaning weakly and can feel Liam's body shifting under his hands but he keeps the pressure on and keeps his rhythm slow and torturous.

His tongue swirls around the head of his cock, tasting and licking and making his own moaning noises because Harry loves blowjobs. He loves giving them and he loves receiving them. He just loves them, ever since his first taste in the back of his mum's car with some guy who'd worked at the bakery for two weeks before fucking off. Harry hadn't seen him again but he remembered loving the feel of his mouth around Harry's dick and he remembered the warm feeling he'd gotten as he'd sucked someone off for the first time. But he's going to remember this time with Liam, this first taste and the first smell of sex and the sounds Liam makes when he's hard and needy. He presses down harder, his mouth full and his eyes watering a bit but when Liam whimpers so beautifully, Harry bobs down again and again until he's taking all of Liam in his mouth and it's wet and sloppy and somehow perfect. He can feel Liam stiffening underneath him and he pulls back just a little, mouth still wrapped around Liam as he uses his hand to jerk quickly until Liam shouts his name and he's sucking hard, tasting Liam's come as he swallows what he can, using his tongue to lap at Liam's head until he's clean and tugging weakly on Harry's hair. Harry pulls away and nuzzles his face against Liam's now spent cock for a second before he lets Liam pull him up and collapses on Liam's chest.

He lets Liam kiss him thoroughly, lets Liam taste himself in Harry's mouth until he breaks away and falls into his shoulder. Liam gathers him into his arms and Harry's expecting a nice afterglow cuddle but Liam has other ideas as he flips them until Liam's on top and Harry's staring up at him. Liam has that satisfied look of the content on his beautiful face but there's also a sinful little smile playing on his lips that makes Harry feel defenceless and he brushes his hand against Liam's cheek once before his hand drops and Liam ducks down to kiss him. Then he's tugging on Harry's briefs and Harry lifts his hips to help but his energy levels are low and he falls back against the bed, exhausted.

"Just lie still babe, I'll take care of it," Liam murmurs and he's back up, kissing Harry with those unhurried, lethal kisses that are slowly going to drive Harry insane. His hand slides down Harry's chest and wraps around Harry's semi-hard dick with a loose grip and starts to move up and down, pressing his thumb against the underside of his cock and Harry slowly realises that Liam is a heartless tease because it's enough to get him hard but not enough pressure to find any relief. He whimpers, turning his head away from Liam because he's awful and he's laughing and Harry just needs _more_. When Liam tightens his grip, Harry turns back towards him and kisses him hard and unforgiving until his hand speeds up and finally Harry can feel it building inside. He gasps and writhes and Liam doesn't let up, urging him on with quiet words until Harry's breathless and Liam's name is on his lips as he comes hard over Liam's fist. Slumping back against the mattress, Harry whimpers as Liam strokes him once more before he lets go and wipes his hand on the sheets with a little grimace that Harry will tease him about later.

"You're awful," Harry mutters as he keeps his eyes closed and drags Liam over him, making grumbling noises until Liam settles heavy over him, their legs entangled and Liam's head on Harry's shoulder. "Terrible. We should do that all the time."

He feels rather than sees Liam's grin as his finger traces a pattern across Harry's belly. "Go back to sleep," he murmurs and well, Harry's not one to argue.

*

They spend most of the day in bed, except for when Liam disappears to make toast in the kitchen and they eat cross-legged on the mattress, ravenous but reluctant to get dressed and make real food. During the day, Harry learns that Liam has his own room because he's on a sports scholarship, that Liam really likes comics and superhero movies, he's got two best mates back home but he doesn't talk to them as much as he'd like to because they're busy at their uni's and he wants to move to London and be a gym teacher when they graduate.

Harry shares the story of how he met Zayn and that he has no idea what he wants to do when he graduates, that he talks in his sleep and his biggest crush is David Beckham.

When Louis rings for the ninth time and Harry ignores him for the ninth time, Liam sighs and brushes his hand through Harry's hair. "You should probably call him back or something."

"He's just being nosy," Harry mumbles as he nuzzles into Liam's neck, flicking out his tongue to taste him. "Or to brag about him and Zayn."

"So are you going to tell him about us then?" Liam asks and there's something in his tone that makes Harry abandon his neck and his great tasting skin and lean up on his elbows to look down at him.

"You don't want me to?" Harry asks carefully, keeping his eyes cast low and hooded.

Liam shifts a little uncomfortably and Harry's senses go haywire. "I just thought that maybe we could keep this between us for a bit, you know? Just like, for a while."

Harry doesn't especially want to. He wants to go on dates with Liam and gossip with Louis about all the sex he's planning to have with Liam and he wants to kiss him in the coffee shop when he tastes of coffee and he wants to blow him big dumb kisses when he's on the football pitch. "For a little bit, yeah," he says finally, unsure but not willing to lose Liam over it. He figures Liam probably just wants a little time to adjust before he tells his teammates or something, because it's probably not easy for him in the locker room, from what Louis' said in the past when he's played for his local Sunday league team.

So Harry smiles and leans down to peck a small, close kiss against Liam's cheek before he eases out of bed and gets dressed. "I'd better get back before Louis sends a search party."

Liam's hand shoots out when Harry's pulling on his jacket and tugs gently until Harry overbalances and falls onto the bed next to him. With the sheets wrapped modestly around his waist, he leans up and kisses Harry hard and thorough.

"Text me later?" he mutters as he pulls back an inch. Harry nods and Liam kisses him again, softer this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Harry asks a little hopefully and Liam smiles radiantly. "This was ... amazing, Liam."

"Yeah, it was," Liam agrees quietly and Harry finds himself drawn back in for more kisses until he pulls back with a self-deprecating smile and stands up. He whips out his phone and takes a quick photo, laughing at Liam's outraged expression.

"Just want to keep it for me, don't worry," Harry tells him with a wink and he slips out of the door, feeling giddy and happy and foolish all at once.

He's managed to get himself under control by the time he steps into their room and he's greeted with the sight of Zayn and Louis cuddling in Louis' bed, Louis positioned between Zayn's legs and leaning back against Zayn's back, watching an old episode of Sherlock. Harry is both enchanted and slightly horrified.

Louis turns as Harry sits on his bed with narrow eyes. "And where do you think you've been, you dirty little stop out?"

"Went back to Liam's because I lost you and I was too drunk and couldn't tell him where my room was," Harry said, hating the lie he's telling, but Liam's asked him to keep them quiet and he's agreed, so he plows on. "Passed out on his floor. He would have kicked me out hours ago but I was too hungover so he took pity on me and got me a McDonalds and then he let me whinge and moan most of the afternoon until I figured I'd blown any chance of us ever making out again and left."

Louis gives him a sharp look but after a moment he obviously decides to let it slide and turns back to the telly. "Sherlock just started if you want to catch up. We're going to get a takeaway later."

"Chinese?" Harry asks hopefully as he starts stripping.

"Avert your eyes, Malik, you're not allowed to ogle fit young men anymore," Louis yells, throwing his hands up to block Zayn's view.

"He can look if he wants, Lou," Harry pretends to leer before he laughs at Louis' sour expression. "Just jumping in the shower. I'll be back in five."

Harry turns the water up as high as he can stand and steps in under the spray and lets the steaming hot water sluice over his body, washing away the lies he just told Louis and any traces of Liam on his body. All he's left with is the memory of the feel of Liam's hands on his skin or his lips on Harry's lips. And the desperate need to do it all over again.

And if it's not quite perfect, if Louis chooses to believe his terrible attempts at lying, and if it's not quite perfect because he can't tell anyone about Liam and how adorable he looks when he wakes up or how beautiful he looks when Harry's lips are around his dick and he can't hold his hand in public, then it's okay because he just has to wait and it'll be everything. It'll be perfect.

*

Harry actually finds it fun to sneak around with Liam. There's something deliciously sexy about seeing Liam on campus and just nodding at him or waving or having a casual conversation about football or how much coursework they've got or what Niall's up to, and then meeting him in the library to desperately make out in the last aisle on the fifth floor in the chemical metallurgy section where there's dust on every book because no one's been here since 1975. Liam's even given him a quick handjob a few times there when they've spent so long making out they're both hard and aching. Liam won't let Harry near his dick in the library, he's got some issue with it being a holy place or something, Harry's not quite sure and every time he's explained it, Harry's more concerned with getting Liam's hand on his own dick than listening to Liam talk about the sanctity of libraries or whatever he says.

Or when they go to watch his football matches and Harry cheers like usual and sends Liam sneaky looks when Louis and Zayn aren't looking and then they spend half their times at the parties afterwards trying to find an empty room and sneaking off together to swap blowjobs. Harry's quite fond of sending Liam filthy texts when they're both in the coffee shop but at different tables and Liam's trying to talk to his mates or study while Harry's describing what he's planning to do to Liam later, when he plans to shove Liam against the bedroom wall and sink to his knees and let Liam fuck his throat until he's gagging on Liam's dick. Harry loves watching Liam flush and cough and send him looks that promise retribution.

What he hates is lying to Louis about where he's been or who he's been with. He hates the way Louis looks at him as if he knows he's lying but he won't call Harry on it because Louis is his best mate and if Harry wants to lie to him, then Louis believes there's a good reason for it. He hates walking in on Zayn and Louis cuddling or kissing or seeing them together holding hands and being revoltingly adorable when he can't even tell them about Liam, let alone annoy them by being revoltingly adorable with Liam. They won't walk in on him and Liam kissing or cuddling because it's a secret and they only hang out in Liam's room or locked bathrooms at parties or abandoned aisles in the library.

But it's okay because he just has to wait and everything will be perfect.

Louis doesn't ever ask where Harry is on Saturdays, when he's slept over at Liam's and they spend the whole day in Liam's room in their boxers, holding hands and cuddling and doing all the things Harry wishes they could do out in the real world.

"Hey babe," Liam startles him out of his thoughts. He's in Liam's room and it's a weeknight. He knows he probably shouldn't be here and should be home, but Liam doesn't seem to want him to leave and Harry wants to stay here, tucked up against Liam as they both try and do their reading even though they mostly sneak looks at each other and spend most of their time kissing and teasing each other.

"Hmm?" Harry looks up from his book, placing his finger on the last word he read because he keeps losing his place whenever Liam starts kissing him and he's certain he's read the same paragraph three times already.

"Let's go on a date on Saturday," Liam says quickly like he's been waiting to say it all day and wants to say it fast before he can take it back.

Harry's eyes widen and he stares at Liam in confusion. "A date?"

Liam nods slowly, biting his bottom lip which makes Harry frown a little.

"But what about keeping things quiet, babe?" Harry asks, his eyes running over Liam's face and noting how uncertain he looks.

"I thought we could go out in Reading, book a restaurant or something." Liam's eyes are darting everywhere except at Harry so he leans forward and catches Liam's jaw in his hand, forcing Liam to look at him.

He smiles reassuringly. "I'd love to go on a date with you, Liam Payne."

The relief that floods through Liam's body and relaxes him instantaneous.

"Hey," Harry flicks his hand. "Did you think I'd say no?"

"I don't know," Liam says honestly, because Liam is unbearably honest and painful truthful, except about Harry and their relationship. "I hoped you'd say yes."

"I'm going to put on my finest frock, Liam Payne, so you better book a nice restaurant," Harry teases him, lifting Liam's hand and kissing it gently.

"Of course," Liam says gravely. "It's our first date, after all."

And well, Harry doesn't want to think about the significance of that yet because it's all a bit overwhelming and maybe it's the first step in taking this relationship public, but maybe it's not and Harry just wants to enjoy the date for what it is. "In that case, I want flowers and chocolates and you have to tell me how beautiful I am and how lucky you are that I agreed to go on this date with you and you have to awkwardly reach for my hand across the table and play footsie with me when you think no one's watching and I get to steal food off your plate and you're paying, obviously and then when we walk back to the car, you have to make a clumsy attempt to hold my hand and we'll smile shyly at each other, okay?"

And maybe Harry's joking but maybe he's not and perhaps he wants every single thing that he's just listed, awkwardness included.

He's lost in a daydream about their first date and playing footsie when his book is flying out of his hands and he's got a lapful of Liam who's straddling him and pressing fast, frenzied kisses against his lips. Harry makes a surprised noise but his hands are already lifting to steady Liam's hips as they grind down hard against his own. Liam's whining into his mouth and Harry's completely dazed as Liam rocks against him.

"Fuck, I want all of that Harry," he mumbles against Harry's jaw as he places sloppy, wet kisses across his face before zeroing back in on his lips.

Harry's brain is clouded because he can't make out what Liam's saying, all he knows is that he's hard and Liam's hard and Liam won't stay still in his lap and he needs more friction than this and if he doesn't come soon, he might just cry.

He tries to shift but Liam won't let him, using his strength for the first time to keep Harry where he is.

"Liam," Harry groans between kisses. "Lemme move down yeah?"

Liam makes a frustrated noise but he wraps one arm around Harry's waist and he puts his other hand down on the mattress and he physically lifts up, carrying Harry with him as he straightens them both and lowers Harry down and Harry's seriously impressed with Liam's lazy show of strength. His hands wrap around Liam's biceps as he lifts up and rolls his hips against Liam's, but it's not enough. He needs more.

His hands slip down to grip Liam's hips and Liam starts to press down harder and rock against Harry. He's so far gone that it only takes Liam rubbing hard against him before he comes in his jeans with a whimper as he reaches up to crash his lips against Liam's. He swallows Liam's groans before Liam stiffens in his arms and collapses down on his chest, both of them breathing hard and spent.

When he can finally speak again, Harry reaches up to brush Liam's hair back and press a shaky kiss against his forehead. "What brought that on, Li?"

Liam shakes his head, his face still buried in Harry's shirt. "Dunno. Y'irresistible."

Harry grins as he closes his eyes, wondering if Liam'll mind if he just falls asleep and stays the night, even though it's not the weekend. Deciding that Liam'll have to physically remove him if he does mind, Harry shoves a protesting Liam off him and quickly sheds his clothes, helping Liam out of his too and wincing at the sticky mess in their boxers. He forces himself to get up and go to the bathroom, cleaning himself up and bringing out a cloth for Liam, cleaning him up too before he slides back into bed and nuzzles up to Liam, drifting off to sleep with his face buried in Liam's neck.

* 

Since Harry's preferred fashion style doesn't really suit the winter months, he's more than happy that the weather is brightening and warming up as he's on his feet in the stands, one arm linked with Zayn and the other linked with Louis. He's banned them from standing together since the infamous almost-sex they had during one match when they 'forgot' where they were and Louis had Zayn's shirt completely undone and Zayn had Louis' zip half-down before Harry had glanced over and jumped in to pull them apart. At least Zayn had the good grace to look penitent, while Louis just grumbled at Harry for the rest of the match as he stood between them, his arms crossed and glaring at both of them.

Harry likes to bring it up now and again just to watch Zayn blush in embarrassment because Zayn's normally as unfazed as Louis is about anything, but that story always makes his cheeks heat and his gaze drop and Harry thinks it's pretty good revenge, all in all.

Harry moves a little closer to Zayn, sighing happily as Zayn's arm slips around his waist and Harry leans his head on his shoulder. He can feel Zayn's fingers entwine with Louis' next to him but he doesn't mind, just likes the way they can still all be connected even though Louis and Zayn share something that Harry isn't a part of. He supposes it's the same for Zayn, with the way he and Louis are sometimes. It's so much a part of them that Harry doesn't realise he's doing it, really.

Liam and Niall search for them as usual, waving when they spot them. The trio wave back, although Harry can see Liam frowning just before he turns away to start the game. Harry really fucking hates that frown.

The game is a blowout, with the home side going up 3-0 in the first thirty minutes. Liam scores once and Harry has to temper his enthusiasm to a polite clap and yell of congratulations, when really he wants to scream and shout and maybe rush the pitch and lay a big smacker on Liam's pretty pink lips. But he can't help the way his heart flips when the first thing Liam does when he's allowed up from the ground where he was dive-bombed by half the team in celebration is seek out Harry in the crowd.

By the end of the match, it's 9-0 and Niall's scored twice, which means he'll be endearingly insufferable at the party and Harry's not sorry he'll miss that while he's on his date with Liam, who's going to be in a great mood thanks to the final score and his goal.

Harry's already told Louis that he's got a big essay coming up so he's going to be in the library all night. He knows, he _knows_ that Louis doesn't believe him but they're still pretending that he does. When Liam doesn't turn up for the post-match party, it's going to take Louis less than a second to figure out that they're together, but Harry's past caring at this point. He wants Louis to know about him and Liam. He wants the whole world to know about him and Liam and they're going on their first official date together, out where other people will be and will see them holding hands and being horribly cutesy together and that has to mean something, as far as Harry's concerned. It has to mean that Liam's ready to tell everyone, to tell his team that he's gay and that he's dating Harry.

He waves goodbye to the boys and heads for Liam's car, where it's parked in one of the quietest car parks around campus. He walks slowly, knowing Liam has to shower and dress and escape the team post-victory orgy or whatever in the showers.

Harry leans against the dark blue Ford Fiesta and sends a few texts to his mum and Gemma and some mates he hasn't seen all week, waiting for Liam to appear. And when he does, it's well worth the wait because Liam is wearing a black blazer with his black skinnies and a white shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone and he looks so good that Harry wants to jump on him right then and there. And then he sees Liam's carrying a pitiful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in his hand and Harry's fucking gone.

Before Liam can even say hi, Harry's grabbing his hand and spinning them around so that he's got Liam pinned up against the car and he's attacking his lips with fervour, his hands running up and down Liam's body as he kisses him hard and fast. Harry's fast reaching the point of no return and suggesting that they skip the first date and just climb in the back of Liam's car for more carnal activities when Liam pushes him back gently. Harry's eyes are a little wild and he's surging forward again but Liam holds him back, breathless and amused. "Hey, what's up?"

"Your stupid jacket," Harry mutters as he leans in and kisses the corner of Liam's mouth as it's turned upwards in a smile. "Your stupid shirt." He kisses the other corner. "The way you smell so good." Harry kisses his mouth, managing to gentle himself this time as his breathing evens out a bit more. "Such a tease."

Liam looks honestly shocked, his eyebrows knitting together as he glances down at himself. "I'm a tease?"

Harry laughs shakily as his hands thread through his hair. "Without even trying to be," he says and Liam seems to give up trying to understand him and steps away from the car instead. He shyly hands Harry the now slightly squashed flowers and chocolates, blushing furiously as he opens the passenger door with a styled flourish. Harry kisses him quickly before he climbs in, horrendously charmed as Liam closes the door for him and scoots around to the driver side, quickly starting the car and pulling away, heading for the motorway.

Harry reaches over and places his hand lightly on Liam's leg, giving him a little squeeze when he glances across at him with a smile.

They mostly talk about the game and how happy Liam is to have scored and how they only need to win three more matches to win their league. And Liam's smiling that crinkly-eyed smile at Harry for the whole journey and Harry's beaming back at him with both dimples and he's pretty sure that this moment, this very second, is absolutely perfect and he wants to remember it forever.

Harry's pretty sure he's got actual hearts in his eyes when he steps out of the car and Liam takes his hand to walk to the restaurant. He can't help but keep squeezing Liam's hand every few seconds and he can't stop smiling.

When they're seated and Harry's looking at the menu, he feels Liam's foot brush against his and he looks up, amused.

"Liam Payne, are you playing footsie with me?" Harry asks in a hushed whisper, his eyes dancing and his head tilted as he considers his adorable boyfriend.

"Maybe," Liam says a little defensively, but Harry knows it's because he's nervous. He lets one of his hands fall to the table and raises his eyebrows suggestively at Liam, who lets out a little laugh before he reaches out and joins their hands together. "How am I doing so far?"

"Hmm," Harry pretends to consider even as he can't stop smiling. "Pretty perfect, actually. It can only go downhill from here, I reckon."

"Ye of little faith," Liam murmurs, his eyes bright and almost obscured by his smile. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, babe?"

Harry flushes. He can't help it. Liam looks so earnest and sincere and really, when was the last time anyone other than his mother called him beautiful? He's not meant to be beautiful, he's meant to be handsome or gorgeous or something, but the way Liam says it makes his chest hurt and his grip on Liam's hand tighten.

"No actually Liam, you haven't," he says as lightly as he can. "Go ahead."

"You look beautiful, Harry Styles," Liam says, a smile twitching at his lips. "The most beautiful man in this entire restaurant."

"Just this restaurant?" Harry asks, because he's needy and loves Liam's attention.

"The most beautiful man in all of Reading," Liam says, amused. And when Harry opens his mouth again, Liam jumps in quickly. "The most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on. Except maybe David Beckham."

Harry narrows his eyes but then he shrugs and smiles sunnily. "I guess that's fair."

Liam grins as he opens up his menu to make his choices.

Harry picks most of the calamari off Liam's starter plate and frowns when Liam tries to steal one of Harry's chicken wings. Harry shields his pasta from Liam's interested gaze but pilfers half of Liam's chips and takes a bite of Liam's burger from Liam's fingers.

By the end of the meal, Harry's certain he's in love.

Liam pays and Harry leaves the tip and when they stand up, Harry slides his hand into Liam's and they walk slowly back to the car.

"So how was our first real date?" Liam asks quietly.

Attuned to Liam so intrinsically now, Harry knows he's nervous. It shouldn't surprise him when Liam's unsure of them or himself, but it does, every time.

Harry stops and forces Liam to stop too, pulling him to the side so they aren't blocking the way. His hand lifts to cup Liam's cheek and he kisses Liam softly. "Fucking perfect," he whispers, pleased with Liam laughs gently.

"Good," Liam whispers back. "That's what I thought."

"Take me home, Liam," Harry whispers a little unsteadily, because he's caught up in this moment and all the emotions he's feeling and he just wants to be alone with Liam and show him everything he's feeling, because he's certain that neither of them are ready to hear him say it.

*

Harry wakes up slowly, blinking as the too-bright light hits him and he buries his head under the pillow. Something's not right though. He opens his eyes and lifts his head. He's definitely in Liam's room, but Liam is not. Confused, Harry blearily looks around, finding a note on the floor. Scrabbling for it, he peers at Liam's scrawl. _Gone to the library to study for a test tomoro, didnt want to wake u because u looked soooo cute sleeping. thanx for last nite it was amazing! see u later?? Liam x_

Harry grins as he flops back against the pillow. His boyfriend is officially adorable.

* 

A week later, and Harry's not so sure anymore. He's barely seen Liam, except in passing at the coffee shop or on campus and he can't do more than wave or say hi before Liam's apologising and rushing off. And Harry wouldn't think anything of it because he knows Liam's got exams before the end of term two weeks away and he's got his own to worry about too, but Liam's not texting him except to reply to Harry's texts with one or two word answers and every time he's gone to Liam's dorm, he's not in. Except Harry's starting to wonder if Liam is in but not answering the door to him and he can't figure out why. It's driving him crazy.

**Is there something wrong? xx**

He waits patiently for Liam to reply to his text, biting his bottom lip and staring out of the library window. He really needs to study this chapter but all he can think about is Liam and wondering where he is and what he's doing and why he's avoiding Harry.

He misses him. Desperately. And it's starting to show.

He snapped at Louis last night. He was abrupt with Zayn this morning. He can't sleep properly because he wants Liam's arms around him when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. He's miserable and he's confused and he just wants _Liam_.

His phone vibrates, pulling him out of his fog of wretchedness. Liam's name flashes up.

He feels sick.

Harry slides his phone open with a shaky thumb and pulls up the message.

**Can we talk? I'm in the coffee shop x**

Harry re-reads it five times before his shaking hand drops the phone onto the desk, making a loud clatter in the silence of the library. Can we talk is code for major problem. And even worse, Liam spelt every word correctly, which means he spent time writing the text and it's not just an offhand request.

Harry gathers his stuff quickly, not wanting to wait any longer to find out what this is all about, rushing through the library and across campus. He flies into the coffee shop, eyes darting around nervously until he sees Liam, sitting at a table near the back. Liam's not looking up and Harry feels even sicker. His stomach is doing somersaults and he's still shaking. But he manages to put one foot in front of the other and somehow he's sliding into the seat opposite Liam. He's got a bright, false smile on his face that slips away when Liam finally looks up and he looks just as miserable as Harry feels.

"Long time no see," Harry says and it's instinct more than anything that has him reaching across to touch Liam's arm. When Liam jerks back and almost knocks his coffee mug off the table, Harry blinks slowly before he moves back and slips his hands under his thighs. He's nervous and he can't stop his leg from bouncing and nothing about this feels right.

"Ican'tseeyouanymore," Liam blurts out and it's so fast that Harry doesn't catch it the first time. But when he replays it in his head and slows it down, he slumps back against his chair and just stares at Liam, praying that he's heard him wrong.

But the silence drags on and Liam still looks miserable and he's staring at the floor and Harry can't quite believe this is happening.

"You can't see me anymore?" Harry repeats finally, desperately needing Liam to look up and laugh and tell him that he heard him wrong.

But that doesn't happen. What does happen is Liam nods and bites his lip and Harry kind of wants to cry.

"Any particular reason why?" Harry asks, his voice surprisingly steady and even. "I mean, I thought we had a perfect date. Then I woke up alone in your bed and you avoid me for a week and now you're breaking up with me."

He can see Liam's mouth tremble before he presses his lips together. He can see Liam taking a deep breath. He can see it all, but it doesn't register within him because he's in some kind of bubble where he's observing everything and feeling nothing.

"We weren't dating," Liam whispers and Harry wants to hit him. He physically wants to reach over and smack him, because if they weren't dating, what the fuck have they been doing for two months? And what was the point of their date? And why does it feel like his heart is breaking?

"We weren't dating?" Harry repeats in a low, shaking voice. "What the hell, Liam?"

"Fuck." The curse sounds odd coming from Liam. It doesn't sound right. Nothing sounds right. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Fuck. Sorry."

Liam stumbles to his feet and he's gone before Harry can stop him. He doesn't even know if he wants to stop him.

He's numb.

He needs Louis. Trembling hands pull out his phone and manage to hit Louis' number.

_"Go away I'm very busy making out with my boyfriend."_

"Lou," Harry's voice cracks and that bubble he's been in crashes around him and it hurts. "Lou."

_"Shit, what's wrong? Harry? Harry where are you?"_

"Coffee shop," Harry whispers, scared to speak any louder. "Please Lou."

_"We're coming love, stay right there."_

When Louis walks in, he pulls Harry into a tight hug before Zayn helps him drag Harry back to their room.

"Is it Liam?" Louis asks immediately as he wraps Harry up in his arms on his bed, Zayn sitting next to them with his hand on Harry's back. "What did he do?"

"Broke up with me," Harry says numbly. "He broke up with me and said we weren't even dating. We were dating, Lou. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but he didn't want anyone to know. He said we weren't dating but we were and now we're not. He didn't want the team to find out he was gay. We were dating, Lou. We were dating."

And then he breaks.

* 

Harry gets through each day. He studies and he sleeps (badly) and he eats (when Louis forces him to) and he goes to class. Louis tries to force him to talk about Liam but Harry can't so eventually Louis stops talking about Liam altogether. Zayn stays up all night with him a few nights after their break up but Harry doesn't say a word and Zayn doesn't ask, just keeps Harry in his embrace and strokes his arm when Harry starts to shake. Niall drops round with beers but he can't bear the taste.

He sees Liam, sometimes. In the library or in passing on campus. He keeps his gaze down and keeps going, wondering if Liam will stop him and try to explain, will ask for his forgiveness. He never does.

He avoids the coffee shop and they stay in on football night except Niall texts Louis to tell him it's been postponed anyway. Louis and Zayn plant themselves firmly by Harry's side and they watch the Die Hard trilogy and eat ice cream.

He overhears Louis and Zayn whispering to each other that Niall's told them that Liam's losing weight and spending too much time in the gym. It's only been just over a week but Harry knows he doesn't look the picture of health either but he doesn't understand why Liam's in bad shape because Liam's the one who broke up with him and Liam's the one who broke his heart and Liam's the reason why Harry wants to curl up in his bed and never come out again.

Louis drags him out to a party mid-week and the only reason Harry lets him is because he's pretty sure Liam won't be there as it's not an after-match party and Louis refuses to shut up until Harry agrees to go. Louis can be fucking insistent sometimes.

Inevitably he runs into Niall and they get trashed together in a whirlwind of beers and whiskey chasers and the night ends with them half-streaking across campus, giggling and chasing each other. He wakes up in his own bed, an amused Louis brandishing photographic evidence and Niall curled up on their floor with a towel draped over him. Louis thinks the whole thing is wonderful. Harry thinks his head really, really hurts. And he still misses Liam.

*

It's Niall who's responsible for what happens on Friday night. He pleads and begs Harry to come out, wheedling his way into Harry's weak spots and guilting him into coming to the party. Harry argues that Niall shouldn't be drinking the night before their big match, the one where if they win, they win the league (although they have four more matches in case this one doesn't go to plan). Niall argues that he plays better with a hangover and Zayn and Louis aren't much better because they think it's better for Harry to be out of the dorm room than hibernating so all in all, he's currently standing in someone's kitchen, drinking his second beer and wondering how he has to stand here before he can escape.

Everything's fine until he goes in search of Niall to say goodbye. He's been here for two hours and he's hated every second of it and he just wants to go home and maybe call Gemma and have her cheer him up because big sisters are the best at that, when he walks right into Liam.

Except he doesn't realise it's Liam at first and his first instinct is to apologise as his hands reach out to steady whoever he's knocked into.

But he knows the feel of those arms. He recognises those jeans. And he loves that face looking back at him in shock. He lets go of Liam and stumbles back, causing Liam to reach out to steady him this time and they're frozen in the hallway, Liam holding onto Harry and both of them just staring at each other. He can see that Liam's lost weight in the way his clothes hang a little loose on him and his cheeks look too hollow. But he's still the most beautiful boy Harry's ever seen and probably always will be.

His throat is too dry for him to speak and Liam seems to be having the same problem. Harry's gaze drops helplessly to Liam's mouth. He hears a tiny growl that he thinks comes from Liam a split second before he's being dragged down the hallway and into a bathroom. He hears the lock click and then Liam's kissing him and Harry's kissing him back, feeling himself being pushed back against the door. His hands are desperately trying to touch every part of Liam, feeling where he's lost weight and what's different while Liam's attacking his mouth and forcing Harry to feel and to want. It's sloppy and it's wet and Harry needs more, reaching up to tug on Liam's hair and bringing him closer until they're plastered against each other and Harry's almost sobbing with how much he wants this.

Liam's hands are under his shirt and sliding over his back, pulling Harry closer still and his leg is pushing between Harry's until they're locked together and it's not enough. It can't be enough. Harry's heart is racing and his mind is almost blank, his only thought of Liam. Liam touching him and Liam kissing him and Liam holding him. It's too much and not enough all at once.

Liam's teeth nibble on his bottom lip and Harry groans before he slides his tongue against Liam's and it's all so familiar, this need that settles in the pit of his stomach and only Liam can satisfy it.

It's that familiarity that has Harry shoving Liam away, dragging in gulps of oxygen as he stares at Liam with clouded green eyes. Liam is just as breathless, panting hard as his expression drops and his gaze drops. Harry takes one last look at him before he opens the door and slips out, making his way through the crowd and heading home, his fingers touching his bruised lips while his other hand wraps around his waist.

He doesn't mention it to Louis and Louis doesn't ask when he undresses and crawls into Louis' bed, not wanting to sleep alone.

*

Harry doesn't make it to the game, but he forces Louis and Zayn to go, despite their protests. And he tells them not to come home until the early hours of the morning, that they've spent too long cooped up with him and they deserve a night off together.

He's in his pyjamas with flat hair and a big woolly jumper on even though it's the middle of spring, so he's reluctant to open the door when he hears a knock. But he does, and he's greeted with the sight of Liam, still in his football strip, although he's wearing trainers not football boots and he's wearing a hoodie that looks like it was thrown on haphazardly. He looks a bit wild and a bit winded and Harry's too surprised to stop him when he walks into the room, closing the door behind him.

Confused, Harry backs away as Liam stalks towards him, his hands dropping to Harry's hips and Harry's opening his mouth even as Liam's leaning forward, their lips meeting in the middle.

He's expecting the kiss to be desperate and wild like yesterdays, but it's slow and soft and it makes Harry want to weep. Liam's hands gently on his hips and Harry winds his arms around Liam's neck and Harry loses himself in Liam's kiss. Underneath the smell of mud and sweat is Liam's smell, citrusy and familiar. He slides his hands through Liam's hair to cup his face and it's agonisingly sweet.

When he pulls back, he closes his eyes, rests his temple against Liam's and draws in a shuddering breath.

"I can't do this, Liam," he says brokenly. "I just can't."

He feels the faintest brush of Liam's lips against his brow before he hears the door close and he's alone. And it hurts.

*

He avoids Liam for the rest of term and it doesn't get any easier. He gets through his exams and he's all packed up to head home with Louis when Niall drops by to say his goodbyes. Zayn's arguing with Louis about whether Zayn's going to visit for three days or four during the break so Harry's more than happy to see Niall at the door.

"Hey guys, look who's come to visit," Harry says loudly.

Louis turns around and smiles brightly at them. "Tell Zayn that he needs to come visit for four days because I'm his boyfriend and he loves me and he's going to be horribly lost without me so it's in everyone's best interest if he's with me for more days, not less."

"Do you see what I have to put up with?" Harry groans as he falls onto his bed and Niall drops down next to him.

"Better that they're arguing because they want to spend more time together than breaking up," Niall sighs heavily as his head drops onto Harry's shoulder and he lifts his arm to encircle Niall without thought.

"Who's breaking up?" Louis shoves Zayn onto the bed and crawls onto his lap, their argument clearly postponed while Louis senses gossip.

"I think Liam's broken up with someone, although I didn't know he was actually dating anyone," Niall says, unaware of the looks Louis and Zayn are shooting each other and Harry, who's suddenly very interested in his duvet. "The guy's been moping around for weeks, spending too long at the gym and his game's been off too. Guess that's why we lost that match a few weeks ago. But we've still got a few more attempts before the footie situation becomes serious."

Harry can see Louis is trying to bite his tongue and he shoots him a warning look.

"Poor guy," Louis says through gritted teeth, although Niall doesn't seem to notice. "Wonder who the lucky girl was?"

Niall looks up, amused. "Oh, Liam's gay. It would have been some lucky guy."

Harry's heart stops. His eyes are locked on Louis' and he can't breathe.

"Liam's gay?" Louis whispers, his eyes darting between Niall and Harry.

"Yeah, didn't you know?" Niall sounds surprised. "He's pretty open about it. I thought everyone knew."

"No I uh- didn't know," Louis fumbles and Harry can see the pity in his eyes. He feels sick. "What about all the girls who flirt with him?"

"Oh they all think they can be the one to turn him straight." Niall seems to find that hysterical. "But Liam's never interested."

"Does the team know?" Zayn asks, finally speaking up as his hand rests on Louis' shoulder like a warning.

"Yeah, course they do," Niall says like it's obvious.

"Excuse me," Harry whispers before he runs into the bathroom and slams the door behind him, sliding to the floor as he buries his head in his hands and waits for it to hit him.

Liam wasn't keeping Harry a secret because he was ashamed of being gay. Liam was keeping Harry a secret because he was ashamed of _Harry_.

He ignores the hammering on the door and Zayn and Louis and Niall shouting as he curls up on the floor. He's not sure how much time passes, but they eventually stop yelling and he hears the door close. When he eventually emerges, dry-eyed and shattered, the room is empty and he climbs into bed, pulling the covers over his face and falling asleep almost immediately.

* 

He's glad to be home. The car journey with Louis was silent save for the radio and Louis' hand on his before he's dropped off is all he can bear. His mum's hugs are warm and sure and Gemma takes one look at him and frowns. He can practically see her brain racing as he looks at her and she goes for a hug rather than an insult. Harry clings to her pathetically and she takes pity on him, curling up on the sofa with him and watching cartoons all day.

No one asks him what's wrong, even when he's still moping a week later. Easter has been and gone and he just has two weeks left, two weeks where he's going to do his best to stop thinking about Liam and concentrate on putting the last two terms behind him.

It's not going well so far.

He misses Liam.

He's an idiot.

He's still being an idiot, lying on the sofa in his oldest sweatpants and his Power Rangers t-shirt from when he was nine that barely fits him anymore but he wears it anyway when the doorbell rings.

Gemma's head appears around the door and she looks curious. "Harry, there's someone at the door for you."

"Busy," he mutters, certain that it can't be anyone important and she'd just let Louis in without question and really there isn't anyone else he wants to see.

"He's driven a long way, judging by his accent," Gemma murmurs and Harry turns slowly to look at her, frowning. "Cute, too."

"What's his name, Gemma?" Harry asks in a low voice.

She walks into the room and hauls him to his feet. "Liam. He looks as miserable as you do."

She squeezes his hands gently, then she walks out, leaving a shell-shocked Harry behind.

Desperately confused, Harry pokes his head around the door and yeah, that's Liam standing in his hallway. Looking tired and unshaven and wretched.

"Hey," Harry says quietly as he steps around the door and closes it behind him, resting back against it in an attempt to look casual while his heart races and his legs feel like they're going to give out on him.

Liam spins around and stares at him for an age. "Hey," he finally croaks.

"What are you doing here Liam?" Harry asks, keeping his voice low.

Liam shuffles his feet and bites his lip, but he keeps his eyes on Harry like he's trying to memorise his face or something. "God Harry," he finally says on an exhale of breath. "I'm such an idiot."

That makes Harry's eyebrows raise but he keeps quiet and waits for Liam to continue.

"I've been such an idiot and I was scared and I was stupid and I'm here because I couldn't stay away any longer," Liam murmurs. He's gone pale and Harry's a little worried that he's going to pass out or something. "It's just that you're always hugging everyone and you touch Louis all the time, like you're all over each other and Zayn too and sometimes Niall and every time I see you on campus you're draped over someone."

Liam takes a breath and Harry's just more confused than ever, so he keeps quiet and hopes that Liam will start making sense soon.

"It's just that I'm not really like that, I mean I don't really touch people unless it's someone I'm dating and I just listened to gossip and you touch Louis all the time, did you know that?" Harry does indeed know that. "That's why I thought you were dating at first and then you said you weren't so I thought we could see each other. But I thought you were seeing other people and I hated it but I wanted you so much that I thought we could date without anyone knowing because I didn't want to be one of many and I'd be okay with it after a while, you know?"

Harry's eyes narrow and he glares at Liam but keeps quiet.

"Everyone always said that you were with a different guy every night and I wanted more than that so I suggested that date," Liam says with a sigh and he looks ashamed and sad. "And it was perfect. I wasn't lying when I said that, Harry. I wasn't lying about anything when we were together. It was perfect and I wanted it to be like that between us so badly. I realised that I didn't just like you anymore, that I felt more for you than I should do. So I ran away. And I lied to you because we _were_ dating but I didn't realise you thought we were dating until we weren't anymore and I thought it wouldn't matter anyway because you didn't feel the same way I did and you were probably dating other guys anyway."

He takes a breath and Harry feels a sense of calm settle over him. It's both unnerving and yet incredibly satisfying, somehow. Liam's words are soothing the wounds he's been bleeding from for weeks now.

"But I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep and it seemed like I saw you everywhere. Then you were at that party and I had to kiss you. I missed kissing you so much and you were there and you let me kiss you for some reason and it was incredible."

Harry finally softens. "Go on, Liam."

Liam's head lifts a little higher. "Then you weren't at the match. I looked everywhere for you but you weren't there. At first I thought I just couldn't see you, but then I saw Louis and Zayn and you weren't standing between them. You weren't even standing on either side of them. It hit me then. How much I missed you. How much I needed you. How big a part of my life you were. How much I missed you talking about anything and everything. And I just needed to see you. I needed to see you so badly that I fucked up the game. It was so bad that I got subbed 60 minutes in. And all I wanted to do was see you."

"So you turned up at my door," Harry murmurs.

"And you let me kiss you again and it was incredible. But you sounded so tired and sad that I had to leave, had to give you space," Liam mutters. "But I was going to come back. I was going to make a speech about how you should be with me and only me and we could go on those amazing dates all the time and we could cuddle on the sofa in the coffee shop and we could spend nights in with Zayn and Louis and watch trashy telly or stupid movies."

"It sounds like a good speech," Harry says slowly. His mind is racing but he's trying not to get ahead of himself because Liam still looks miserable and he's still too far away but he did drive all the way here from Wolverhampton and he's pouring his heart out.

"Then I got a text from Niall," Liam sighs. "It wasn't a pleasant one. Lots of insults and threats. Followed by more texts apologising and he didn't mean it. Then another abusive one followed by two more apologies. Next thing I know, Niall's knocking on my door so I let him in, thinking he'd been drinking but he hadn't and Louis and Zayn were with him. It got heated."

Harry can imagine. He can't help smiling at the thought of the three of them defending Harry's honour.

"Niall smacked me around a bit," Liam says sheepishly, and Harry can just see it in his mind, Niall slapping at Liam and Liam just letting him because Liam's a big gentle lion. "Zayn glared at me, it was pretty intimidating, and Louis shouted at me for about two hours straight. I swear, Harry, I wasn't keeping it quiet because I was ashamed of you or something. I'd never be ashamed of you. I was ashamed of _me_. I was just terrified but I'm not anymore and I'd really like another chance. Just one, that's all I need. I promise I'll be better this time, Harry."

Harry lets the silence hang for a few minutes before he speaks, slowly and clearly. "You know, if you'd ever spent time with me and Louis together, you'd see how innocent it is. It's a comfort thing. It's not even conscious half the time. I just know that if I reach out, he's there and the same for him. It's innocent and wonderful. Zayn doesn't care, because he knows Louis and you should know me, if we're dating."

"I'm so sorry I said we weren't dating," Liam says quickly, averting his eyes from Harry for the first time in their conversation. "We were. I mean, I felt like we were. I'd like to for real, if you forgive me. Because I need you, Harry. I ... I love you."

"You're an idiot," Harry tells him fondly as he steps forward and holds out his hand. Liam eyes it warily before he steps forward and takes it in his own. "You're going to be making this up to me for a long, long time, Li."

Liam swoops down and wraps his arms around Harry's waist, burying his head in Harry's shoulder. "Fuck."

"Kiss him!" Gemma yells from somewhere upstairs and Harry grins.

Liam's head lifts and he looksbrighter than the fucking sun.

Harry leans forward and presses his lips gently against Liam's, sighing as he finally starts to believe this is all real, that Liam's kissing him and he loves him and they're actual real boyfriends now.

"I love you too," he mumbles against Liam's lips, laughing when Liam reaches down to heft Harry up. Harry wraps his legs around Liam's waist obligingly and Liam spins them around, laughing as Harry grins down at him. And Harry thinks perhaps this is another one of those perfect moments that he wants to remember forever.

Liam stays for a week and he charms Harry's mum and stepdad and even Gemma thinks he's adorably charming and that Harry should probably keep this one. Harry doesn't even complain when Gemma ruffles his hair as she says it because Liam's smiling at them and it's captivating.

*

When Harry's back at university and he calls his mum, he tells her all about his boyfriend Liam, who plays football and buys him coffee and looks after him when he's drunk and hungover. He tells her about how Liam helps him study and holds his hand whenever they're together and how lovely and wonderful and perfect Liam is.

When Harry comes down with a cold, Liam spends every minute he's not in class or at football training with Harry, cuddling him and making him soup and tea. When Liam and Niall and their team win their league, Harry's on the sidelines waiting for Liam to turn and grin at him before he runs onto the pitch and jumps up into Liam's arms, laughing as Liam spins them around and pressing feverish kisses all over Liam's sweaty, muddy, beautiful face. When Harry decides to take an extra-curricular singing class, Liam comes with him and it turns out that they sound really good together with Harry's whiskey-tones and Liam's natural, honey tones. When Harry's tired and exhausted from studying for finals, Liam turns up at the library and drags him into a quiet aisle and kisses him until he feels weak and boneless and it's just the distraction he needs. And when they argue and Harry sulks and Liam storms off, Liam appears at Harry's door looking sad and apologetic and Harry jumps in to apologise first and Louis heads off to Zayn's because they're kissing and stripping clothes from each other mindlessly and they've completely forgotten Louis' even there.

And when Liam brings Harry home for the weekend, and Liam's beaming and holding Harry's hand tightly as he introduces his entire family to his boyfriend and tells his mum that they're planning to move to London in a year and rent a place together, it's pretty much perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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